improbably divine, it happened still. reborn, rebuilt, rebroken and rejoined, like grass that grows across the asphalt scars, some different kind of me with changing will. adapting. morphed. you know, sometimes, the thing what hurts you so, so much can turn into a blessing in disguise. or so I hope.
took out the glass shards from my feet, then stepped one time, ignoring pains, covered the road with my blood stains. it hurts, but so important still. and so,