Wednesday, April 24, 2013

My Soul

I am stunned and amazed that with all the ground glass, toxic poison and vile waste that has accumulated in my soul, still, somehow, I remain hopeful.

Hopeful of breaking free. Hopeful of bursting forth, hair blown back and teeth bared, into my life. My real life. The life that has eluded me as I struggle with the one I currently inhabit.

The soul is magic, baby. It is resilient. It exists on minimum sustenance while somehow keeping the spark alive.

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