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Dec 2014
My first fresh start happened when I was sixteen.
Hot tears splattered my jeans like the rain falling from the dark sky
I walked through a door to a life that felt like a mold I had to fill
Those four walls that made up my room felt nothing like home to me
I cried and longed for my life back yet I had never felt so alive
When I spiked my hair that early morning before my first day of school
I pretended to be grateful, confident and personable
In my heart all I wanted to do was crawl back in my blankets and cry
When the first person on my bus ride said hello to me
I jumped and mumbled politely back and put in my headphones
I didn't remove those headphones until a boy tapped on my shoulder
When I looked up at him I saw just another boy oh how wrong I was
Slowly that mold expanded and I filled into a life that I could call mine
My fresh start was compiled of pain being healed by hope
Hope being dashed by pain and seeing the cycle forming in front of me
I grew up so much during my fresh start and I built myself from ashes
Then when I ventured out on my own I set fire to my foundations
Laughing and lighting my cigarette off the flames
Falling past my lowest low and thumping onto rock bottom
Finally when I had nothing left to burn & only ashes falling around me
I found my way back to my fresh start back to myself
To that door that held so much love and encouragement beyond it
Those four walls that once felt so empty now beckoning me home
I cried tears of joy to finally feel alive again
From the outside I look perfectly happy once more and I am
Yet I still write by nothing but the dim glow of my Christmas lights
The ones that I begged my dad to let me have after the holidays
When I see that boy who once tapped on my shoulder I smile
Then I remember everything we ever were, every single memory
All of the happiness, heartbreak, hope and confusion he gave to me
Most of all I remember when I thought everything had been taken
When all hope left my eyes, my heart hung from the strings of my ribs
Yet the most painful part of being ***** was being blamed by him
Still I smile at him and know we will be friends once more
This fresh start is looking promising to say the least
It's a chance to rediscover the parts of myself I let die long ago
To release my words onto the pages that soak them up like a sponge
I have a voice again and I refuse to be shushed by judgement
So when I walk through the door of my fresh start at 3 in the morning
I smile and breathe deep because the air doesn't just smell better here
It's lighter with the hope that refuses to let pain direct it's cycle
It's crisp with the confidence I no longer have to fake
Bubbly with my personality that's bigger than any storm
So here I am. Writing by my pale dim lights of my fresh start
Life has never looked so beautiful
Tabitha Sullivan
Written by
Tabitha Sullivan  Maine
(Maine)   
384
 
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