Sometimes, you just have to release the darkness and allow it to consume the harshest realities you've created. You could even create a hundred different excuses and lie to yourself, but we both would know you suck at lying.

I don't want a perfect life, but I'd rather live knowing I had a purpose and completed it. And maybe my silent cry can be heard. But I'm not creating an army, I'm standing alone. Cause sometimes you just have to surrender to what life is, let go of what was, and believe in what will be.

My existance is a broken, fragile glass jar. I've placed it high up, a shelf becoming a mountain.

A tear becoming a storm within my soul.

I've come to make peace with my few demons. Instead of wanting a perfect life that would live on forever, I've created something that will last after I've gone from the world. My existance, my soul: Only small pieces of a life once existing.

And instead of hiding, I've learned to not complain about the things I was never willing to change. I've slipped from the edge, the jar out of my grip.

I've come to reclaim my own existance. To claim my heart.

I will think deeply.

I will speak rather gently, allow you to hear me as I am.

And I will be victorious.

My broken existance, hidden within a shattering jar will bloom. The lid will be removed and I will sprout and thrive.

I will reclaim my own life. My own destiny.

My own existance.