I Am

I’m not perfect.
Nowhere close.
Not even barely.
But this is how I made myself to be
After the great undoing.
After the fire has exhausted all air
After the ashes had set
I stood up
Crawling first
Stumbling
In tears
On my own feet
Holding onto nothing
But my heart
And the words of my mind
And the few
Who knew
I’ll come through.

This is how I made myself to be
Flawed
And proud.
I have scars
And I got them fighting.
I have pride
And I earned it.
I have faith
And nothing shook it.

This is how I made myself to be
Free
And grounded.
I hold the reins
And I’m learning to ride the waves.
I hold the wheel
And I’m steering carefully.
I hold the key.
And I open doors
Like I’m dying any moment.

This is how I made myself to be
Alone
And brave.
I miss some voices sometimes
But I have learned to substitute them
With words written on pages
With my own.

This is how I made myself to be
I am my own world.
I am my own.
I am mine.
I am.

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