Fresh air
I think I'm beginning to become ok. I think I've finally pulled off this mask and let the sun hit my face. I'm no longer broken, I'm just bruised. But bruises eventually fade anyways. I'm pushing myself out from this dark I've put myself in. My skin may not be able to handle the sunlight, it could crack and burn, but that's okay. Feeling is better than numbness in the shade. I can always get better. Being at the bottom has unfolded this world of possibilities. I'd say I'm at a crossroad, but there's a lot more than four ways to turn. I know this isn't going to be anywhere near easy. Regardless of what I do; I know I'm human. I know I'll probably take a few steps back. I may fall down deeper than I was before. But this feeling, this brand new feeling, this one word I wear on my wrist. It seems to have made a change. Faltering is a way of learning, I've finally begun to adjust, and I'm ready to move forward. Whether that be alone, or with someone else.
I just know I won't be the one to burn, without a story to go along with the ashes.
I just know I won't be the one to burn, without a story to go along with the ashes.