All of the dirt I rubbed off.
The wounds I stitched up.
Holes, that have been sewn and sewn again.
A heart that has been broken, over and over.
I am still here, breathing.
The marriage I watched crumble over the course of my childhood.
Scars that have left me unable to feel whole again.
Brothers torn apart from drugs, miscommunication, and a lack of loyalty.
Abuse inflicted from a glossy eyed father, never to be forgotten.
I am still here, breathing.
An interdependency I sought out since the age of 15.
Life lessons taught by oneself.
Morals imbedded while witnessing society's fallout.
Worthless was a word branded on my brain.
But I am STILL here, breathing.
A mother who gave all that she could to see her children joyous.
A father who still tries to clean up the battleground at which he demolished an entire family.
Forgiveness comes with the years that pass, but forgetting ceases to exist.
I've learned through losing anything and everything I loved, you need to keep loving.
But I assure you, my lungs still hold air.
To the friends I have left behind.
To the problematic past we breached as a family.
To the brothers I still have.
To the air I still breathe every day.
I am still alive.
And so are you.
I love you.