My confidence waivers. It falters with the wind and bends like barley. With each quiver of breeze it’s pushed to the breaking point, yet it somehow remains in one piece.
While I treasured my abilities, they became ambiguities. It crushed my heart and pierced my soul to see them rot like wilting flowers. Once so pretty, now dead and disappearing.
It’s a pain to see the darkest parts of me with such control. It’s like I was thrown out the window. Every bit broken and shattered, every piece powdered. Yet still I am somehow here.
I must have a purpose, even with all the cracks in me. There must be a reason that I’m still meant to be. Maybe it’s just out of sight, but just within reach.
This is the hope inside of me.
Scribbles and stuff 