I’m dancing with death nearly every other day, yet in love with the way tomorrow tells me everything is going to be okay.
I cherish my brokenness that is still me to this day, and will continue to be thankful for those who gave me a reason to stay.

I miss the old me, but not in a regressive way.
It's like slowing down when I pass the house I used to live in.
Except old trees have been replaced with new, and there's a welcome sign on the front porch, and even one hanging on the back door, too.

I remember my bedroom and the fits and funs it held.
Laughter that echoed through the hallway and silent meltdowns in my closet.
One wouldn't know from the street view, but the walls are freshly painted with a new tone of the sky’s Blissful Blue.

The foundation is now stable, because the crawl space got maintenance.
The attic is no longer vacant, and the light shines visible from the front pavement.

I flash back to the restless nights after "For Sale" was plastered over with "SOLD".
It's not the boxing up that makes me anxious, just the endless unpacking as I grow old.
I've never loved home, but my temple has been and always will be my abode.



Thursday 20 February 2025