The change is clear.
It’s in my writing.
It’s in my words.

I have fought a battle.
One with a persistent battle.
One with darkness in its nature.

I made it.  
I made it out somewhat alive.
I made it out somewhat happy.

A suicidal mess.
Cleansed.
With love.

Love.
It’s the impossible.
For the darkened one’s to possess love.

I now see the sun rise.
I see it bring life to the dying.
I see it lift spirits after a rainstorm.

Love, has glued me back.
I hope it’s not temporary.
I hope this one lasts.