When Winter Comes In Spring
There is a saintly aura that transcends my life every time seasons change. I can feel it in my bones, my back aches + my mind tries to coerce my spirit into thinking this feeling will pass, but the flesh won’t allow it to subside. It is no surprise that I am deeply introspective + probably more honest than others care for me to be. Blame it on my tragic beginning, all the hearts I broke, the lies I told + the trauma I ingested. I gather my mistakes + rinse them daily because unlike most people I see myself clearly because I like my coffee dark with lots of self- reflection. I sit in every choice + every regret until I can cover every circumstance in forgiveness. Lately I’ve experienced all kind of loss which reminds me that I’m still learning how to let grief take a seat until its ready to vacate my sanctuary.
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