There comes a time for realizations.
Realize you aren't perfect so you shouldn't try to
conform to society's shiny little frame of perfection because
it's artificial but defy definitions of
traditional beauty and perfection and create your own meaning
of flawlessness.
Realize beauty from the ashes is the
purest kind of all because
all the ugly has been burnt away.
Realize that the monsters you used to be
afraid of under your bed
are not what you should have been
fearing but the ones inside of your head,
whispering to you alongside
your inner demons and there are things
in life far scarier than the dark.
Realize there are certain types of cold
that are not wintery or measured in temperature,
the kind you don't feel but you become
and that the worst screams are silent
and not produced by lungs
but glassy eyes instead and silence
can be loud and sometimes
just because you are standing in a crowd
doesn't mean you can't be horribly lonely.
these realizations are the definition of pain
but if you trace your scars far enough back
you will find that it was all worth it
considering what you learned in the end.