I have been rinsing myself of everything the year left on me

cleansing myself of the scars,

the wounds,

the war.

I am taking a brush and painting over all the acrylic blues they covered me in,

letting my watercolored soul meet the sun once again.

I am meeting myself for the first time,

shaking hands with my compassion

and getting coffee with my vivacity.

I have been reintroduced to my drive and let me tell you-

she is taking us places nobody imagined we’d go.

Who convinced me I was nothing more than a collection of bones and rewritten words?

That I had a stationary value based upon what others deemed worthy?

My voice has found it’s strength once again and I am done letting others speak in place of me.

I will speak with clarity and sincerity, even if my voice is shaking.




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