"It's like I've been building my house out of mud, but it doesn't help with all of this rain." so you let it fall down.
crumble.
melt away.
and you start the arduous journey of building it sturdy. with something that will stand the rain, and the thunder. The earthquakes and sandstorms.
you'll stand in silence. digging your heels into the earth, rooting yourself in it's strength. you will grow- and it will hurt. you'll be faced with demons and loneliness, trauma and hurt and you'll want to quit. you'll try to get up and be constantly knocked
over.
and you'll get angry, frustrated.
and you will continue to push past your loving to give up. to be fake. to be unhappy.
and suddenly, when you least expect it you'll realize that you're standing. and that the house wounded to build
is a home.
it is you. it is
hidden under your skin.
your bones will be the skeleton of this masterpiece
of you.
