Poets logo

Some Days Are Tough

Down but not out

By Colleen Millsteed Published about a year ago 1 min read
Image courtesy of Pixabay

As the wind whispers her name on the evening breeze, she remembers,

Lost in a time not of her choosing,

Painful reminders slap her hard when she least expects it,

And the tears flow in a river of grief.

****

She’s lived through some tough times,

And most of the trauma that resides within her heart,

Is bury deep in an effort to forget,

But some days she is blindsided as they gain traction.

****

It all starts as a dull ache deep within her chest,

A build up of worry, anxiety taking hold,

She distracts, but the feelings wallow in her peripheral,

Staring her in the face, begging her to back down.

****

She’s learned to roll with the punches,

To accept a timeout,

To hold on tight and let the wave crest as it so desires,

While she patiently waits.

****

Where once she would panic,

Now she sits silently and gently holds herself together,

She knows she has the battle-scarred will to see her through,

And tomorrow will be a better day.

****

She holds herself gently,

Working through the residual,

Trusting that she’ll make it to the other side,

If she just holds on long enough.

****

She is intimate with her inner strength,

While wise enough to know that she can’t always be in control,

Days like this one are more infrequent as she ages,

Although they still occur on the rare occasion.

****

She rifles through the destruction,

Learning the triggers as she stumbles across them,

Ironing out the kinks and straightening crooked hem lines,

Patiently waiting for the cracks and breaks to even their flow.

****

If she goes off radar,

Hold the line until she returns,

As return she will,

Stronger, more resilient than ever before.

****

She’s her own hero,

Her saviour that continually rescues her forlorn self,

Holding her tight she fights her battles,

Until she’s standing on her own two feet once again.

****

The smile returns,

Her determination wins, she’ll never be beaten,

Just resting through the flare ups as they sneak upon her,

While she gathers her strength to rally again.

Free Verse

About the Creator

Colleen Millsteed

My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments (2)

Sign in to comment
  • Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred about a year ago

    Sending hugs and support, I love when people can come through things successfully if a little bruised

  • This felt so empowering! Loved your poem!

Find us on social media

Miscellaneous links

  • Explore
  • Contact
  • Privacy Policy
  • Terms of Use
  • Support

© 2026 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.