I am still me
Wherever you are, whatever you think of me I am still me.
I found light down a very troublesome, darkened path. And to look back and say you were darkest pieces of me, no I would be lying.
Months of therapy. Months of just standing still. Months of coping. Then silence. Backing myself into a tight corner only to see if I would react.
Did I? At first I was blind. I sat in my own town of misery trying to tie down some sort of connection. Then I realized I don't want any lines to be a part of me.
Slowly the sun started hitting the corners. Making, demanding me to search for what I truly needed. And boy did I search, experiment and examine.
As I stood up I realize I was causing my own blackness. I couldn't allow someone that power over me. So I shut it all out.
Memories of the days gone hunted me down and soon I found myself back in my emptiness. I fought.
I didn't like the comfort and warmth it gave anymore. Soon the light beckoned me to clean out that part of my life. Even the bleakest pieces. Broken glass that shattered and sliced me soon were dull.
See I didn't care about the pain anymore. I didn't seek to blame anyone anymore. I looked for way to forgive.
And as my days were getting shorter I was gaining acceptance of my dark and light. More and more I was loving the sunburnt parts of me. They were the moments I felt radiant.
So I grasp many more times.
Each day, now, is a new day. Different set of issues but I understand each day is one. Not anymore than one.
And today as I look forward to a day of secular work I have found ways to seek positive.
I am still me, you see, outwardly. Shorter hair, pale face, blue eyes. Yet inside I have battled and I am winning. So sure I may appear to be the same but Jehovah knows my scars.
Therapy is good in any form. And speaking to someone about your past is the greatest escape from the pieces that broke you. Now, my therapy is painting, writing, walking, singing, dancing and researching.
See I must say sure you knew some part of me, even my blackest of black yet I still withheld myself. I don't now.
And with that I have to say, you were a part of me, once. Important. Yet now, no. Memories. Forgiveness. Hopes. That is what you are for me.
And I smile in gratitude for once being a part of you.
I found light down a very troublesome, darkened path. And to look back and say you were darkest pieces of me, no I would be lying.
Months of therapy. Months of just standing still. Months of coping. Then silence. Backing myself into a tight corner only to see if I would react.
Did I? At first I was blind. I sat in my own town of misery trying to tie down some sort of connection. Then I realized I don't want any lines to be a part of me.
Slowly the sun started hitting the corners. Making, demanding me to search for what I truly needed. And boy did I search, experiment and examine.
As I stood up I realize I was causing my own blackness. I couldn't allow someone that power over me. So I shut it all out.
Memories of the days gone hunted me down and soon I found myself back in my emptiness. I fought.
I didn't like the comfort and warmth it gave anymore. Soon the light beckoned me to clean out that part of my life. Even the bleakest pieces. Broken glass that shattered and sliced me soon were dull.
See I didn't care about the pain anymore. I didn't seek to blame anyone anymore. I looked for way to forgive.
And as my days were getting shorter I was gaining acceptance of my dark and light. More and more I was loving the sunburnt parts of me. They were the moments I felt radiant.
So I grasp many more times.
Each day, now, is a new day. Different set of issues but I understand each day is one. Not anymore than one.
And today as I look forward to a day of secular work I have found ways to seek positive.
I am still me, you see, outwardly. Shorter hair, pale face, blue eyes. Yet inside I have battled and I am winning. So sure I may appear to be the same but Jehovah knows my scars.
Therapy is good in any form. And speaking to someone about your past is the greatest escape from the pieces that broke you. Now, my therapy is painting, writing, walking, singing, dancing and researching.
See I must say sure you knew some part of me, even my blackest of black yet I still withheld myself. I don't now.
And with that I have to say, you were a part of me, once. Important. Yet now, no. Memories. Forgiveness. Hopes. That is what you are for me.
And I smile in gratitude for once being a part of you.
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