It’s the first day
of the last quarter
of the year.
The voices of January still tell me
to own the stubbornness of my ways,
hold my errors up like trophies well-earned,
be proud of my ugly,
dressing scars up in well-worn laughter,
decorating them with care,
keeping my heart strong for the next chapter.
But all I can think about is
the relief I feel that I’m still here at all.
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