As I fall onto the pile of freshly dried clothes, I can feel the freshness seeping into my skin. The comforting warmth  flows through me in the dead of winter. More... and more... and more. I never want to get up.

Oh, grant me a new song.
A start again afresh with no regrets song.
One with a bridge to a new accord,
a song with which I can get on board.
Something that strikes a stronger chord
with those who like me
long to be
fully
factory
restored.

A song with a fresher melody
(and I definitely need a different harmony),
something that's part of a wider symphony
maybe with an occasional solo part 
for me.

A song that I get to sing with gusto,
maybe to a slightly quicker tempo,
a step up from my imposed Adagio,
closer to a brisker Allegretto.

Oh Lord,
you see me.
You see that I long to sing.
Can you please
wipe me clean
and write a new song with me.

Moss, on the forest floor
cushions my shoulders
amidst of towering pillars
I breathe in the woodland's breath
a cool breeze, that scents the palette
so refreshingly clear.
Let it rain and melt the ****** snow
that adornes the cutlery of this green kitchen.
Something pleasantly stirs.

I'm pulling myself from the cracks
of this apartment.
Scraps of memories,
tell-tale signs of my life.
It's not a harsh break up,
just a "it's-a-long-time-coming"
kind of thing.

I found a new space,
ready to be filled with loving,
songs, art,
a place to share,
to unfold,
to start.

this time last week,
i was curled up in a ball on my bed
trying to get through my latest
mental breakdown.
i did get through it, just like ones before last week.
i'm in a spot in my life where
stepping outside onto the deck feels...
fresh and awakening, rather than debilitating.
going to my class felt new and inspiring,
rather than repetitive.
seeing you after waiting all week felt
euphoric & satisfying.
i'm at a point in my life where
i can start to pinpoint where things started going wrong.
so now, i'm making them right.
i'm thankful for it.
i'm thankful for everyone who helped
me realize that there are
things to be thankful for.

Still I cry

Remembering everything

Preventing myself from moving on

No matter how far I've come,
how much time has passed

It's still there, like a fresh wound

Every day is a battle against the past

I'm a prisoner of our memories

As he walked out the door
I took a deep breath
It was the end
But it was also the beginning
A fresh start
So to say
And I have the power
To do with it
Whatever I want