Beautiful people
Beautiful people
From our highs to our lows to when our self-esteem needs a tow. A tow from breaking down in the middle of the race, oh how I look at at how far I’ve come from that place. I used to see splashes of black, streaks of red, how waking up is what I used to dread. Living is breathing, dying is to dream and depression is a little in between. Between a nightmare and a breath, living only to expect death. Death at my door, let me put on lipstick it’s time to score. I tried to pull myself up and slowly I grew out of this rut. I became a rising tree from a slowly dying, but alive little seed. I grew from my pain knowing that what I went through wouldn’t be in vain. I push and I push, here I am close to who I need to be, no longer hiding behind the OLD me. This is just the beginning of my recovery!

















