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Writer's pictureSam John

KINTSUGI.

KINTSUGI.


FROM THE ASHES...

FROM THE SHATTERED PIECES.

FROM THE OVERWHELMING GRIEF AND SORROW.

FROM THE HEARTACHE AND HEARTBREAK.

WITH EVERY HIT.

WITH EACH DROP OF BLOOD, SWEAT, AND TEARS.

I SUNK INTO THE DARKNESS.

INTO THE HOPELESSNESS.

LOST IN MY THOUGHTS.

LOST IN THE TEARS.

LOST IN THE ANXIETY.

IN MY SHAKING HANDS...


I CAN'T TELL APART THE TEARS FROM THE SWEAT.

THE COLD DRIPS ON MY BACK.

AS I SUNK INTO THE MATTRESS.

LOCKED AWAY.

CAUGHT IN THE DARKNESS. BOUND BY IT.

I WANTED IT TO END.

THE PAIN TO STOP...

AND THEN I SAID "HELP ME, PLEASE."


AND I WOKE UP.

SHAKING, CRYING, MOURNING, GRIEVING.

I KNEW SHE WASN'T COMING BACK.

I KNEW THEY HAD LEFT ME.

I KNEW THE DOORS HAD BEEN SLAMMED INTO AND ON ME.


AND FROM THESE BROKEN PIECES...

COMES SOMETHING GREATER. BOLDER. STRONGER.

BOUND BY THE GOLDEN AFTERMATH OF SORROW AND PAIN.


Yesterday, I grieved.


Today is the start of something new.

Thank you Sophia Kootsikas for the inspiration to get back into my creative pulse.


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