It was the hardest part.
When she felt like she was fading.
Eyes cast downward walking alone.
Clinging to the hope of a better future.
Where people didn’t judge her and love was just not a four letter word.
Solitude was a strange comfort.
She didn’t have to explain the scars on her wrist or get caught up in the everlasting drama and trends that dictate our lives.
All she really wanted was freedom.
Freedom to be herself and shine.
Curling up in bed, she starts to cry.
Her warm tears are a reminder that she’s still able to feel.
That there is a possibility that she’ll be whole again.