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The sun is slowly starting to seep into my hardened veins Bringing with it a message of hope; Of life, arising from the once hopelessly dead. I hear the tides whisper of change; Washing the old and known, and carrying the new. I feel a new warmth caress my impoverished skin; The real home of the child I once knew. I’m starting to hear the songs of the birds outside, Feel my own embrace, See the beauty of each bloom; A space for gratitude, where once was despair. I’m starting to feel an eternal value; Something not said, but felt; Of being wanted, of being loved, supported although lost. A sense of safety once unknown. The sun it seeps; And I allow it. Existence comes calling; And I embrace it. A self once lost; Now somehow returning.
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Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 8:15 AM UTC
The Seeping Sun
The sun is slowly starting to seep into my hardened veins Bringing with it a message of hope; Of life, arising from the once hopelessly dead. I hear the tides whisper of change; Washing the old and known, and carrying the new. I feel a new warmth caress my impoverished skin; The real home of the child I once knew. I’m starting to hear the songs of the birds outside, Feel my own embrace, See the beauty of each bloom; A space for gratitude, where once was despair. I’m starting to feel an eternal value; Something not said, but felt; Of being wanted, of being loved, supported although lost. A sense of safety once unknown. The sun it seeps; And I allow it. Existence comes calling; And I embrace it. A self once lost; Now somehow returning.
I have not written or created art for months, and although I still feel myself to be in pain, I at the very least, can acknowledge this pain more and more.
vea-vents
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Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 8:15 AM UTC
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