who is this young woman feeling sorry for herself in the mirror again? Am I her? Didn't we speak about this,
did we compromise that days like these wouldn't happen this frequently anymore? Did you come so far for this, did you meet 20 face to face for this?
to tell it that you're sorry and you won't give in to it whole heartily.
are you really planning to drop to your knees just to hear your bones complain again? young woman look at yourself, with all your dreams and all that charm, with all those intentions that mean no harm. I know you have just silence for a father, black eyes for a mother, non existent dates in the calendar for siblings,
but you still have a iron bars for hands, speed boats for heartbeats, rubber bands for ideas, ocean depths for soul
in no way did you walk so many miles to regret the journey. you're not your bad decisions, you're not the one in the mirror this morning. That excuse is not what you are.
