I’m still that person with soft skin and an open heart. Whether rich or poor. Lost or found. I deserve to not be forsaken.
It’s hard to not miss the friends of the past. The ones she never should have let turn to only scribbles in an old notebook.
The words always pointing in the right direction; just enough arc to cause a stir.
He wrapped me tight in sunshine’s afterthought; surrounded, but able to breathe.
If nothing else, I have learned to re-build from where I stand. From the inside out – that is where the wreckage begins.
I have been delivered back to my steps without you, where normalcy no longer brings relief.
I forged from steel that layered the ground and twisted up to bedposts.