Slow down


"Maybe I should see a professional..."
She said this after her first night terror.
She instead grabbed her first writing journal.
She wrote poems, and she did it with anger.
She threw blows, and she went at it bare-knuckle.
She craved the Sun, and she only got more bitter.
As she filled the pages, she tried to desperately capture.
When she slept at night, she dreamed of things that would set off her trigger.
Whereas she used to sleep on a schedule, she made being up for days her signature.
She never left the house, and she never thought things would get better.

"Maybe I should see a professional..."
She said this once she decided to get her life back together.
She could either be stuck like this forever, or she could walk towards renewal.
She could say things would never recover, or she could become a believer.
She could die by what's inside, or she could go outside to scuba-dive by the coral.
She could wake up and live, or she could stay to turn deader.
She could wallow without Sun, or she could step outside wearing a dress of floral.
She could start forgiving, or she could still sit and bicker.
She then stepped out of her cloud of denial, and she choose arrival.
She embraced the dreamer, threw away her dagger, and let the Sun come in a lot brighter.

She was thankful for her survival, and she looked forward to revival.
It turned out, this girl still had some fight left in her.
She used it to kill reluctance, and she finally sought redemption.

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