Life is hard, and anyone who appears differently is just good at hiding it. I have seen abuse … felt it … lived with the neglect of many years passing. I have battled the impossible tides of overwhelming odds and somehow “popped” above the surface engulfing the sweet air surrounding me and trying to spit the salty negativities swimming in my lungs.

I have loved. Oh, I have loved and searched for love back as if clawing at the door of happiness … knowing it lives just beyond … and yet unable to get up from my fallen state … begging the door to open with passionate tears pressed against meandering wood. But, the door was locked and could not be opened and I held a key I could not see. So, I traveled on.

Dreams were dreamt and sought after with what I didn’t know lived within me. But, there was an enemy greater than my health, which decimated me … plundering my sensitive soul and brandishing it before those who would never have the eyes to understand what lived within me. I rose above peaks … and then fell deep in the fog of adulthood. My enemy hunted me down … and like a scared rabbit, I fled with all I could carry, my bleeding heart cinched between my teary eyes and my damaged soul. I threw spears of hope at it … fleeing through woods not traveled through before and littered with sticks to grab at my skin … tearing it and exposing it. My weapons fell short, though I could not let mine enemy take me … panting heavily and knowing there would be a light if I just paused to breathe in possibilities. I was running too fast to stop … to imagine that lemon with sugar to calm my sweating soul.

And then there it was … right before me … though a bit blurred and hard to see in the dark. A spear sharing the light I had not seen, yet knew to be there. Here I stand … pausing … not yet breathing … grasping my spear with sweaty palms and bleak spirit.