I feel broken. The fragile shards of life that are gathered at my feet. More and more trail behind as I step with cautious feet along the path decorated with harsh, beautiful glass.

       I look behind and feel lost at the sight of shattered dreams and withered hopes. But I feel overwhelming longing and trek back to the beginning, the beginning of everything. I find resolve as I bend down and extend a shaky hand to the seemingly untouchable colors.

       Slowly, I wrap thin fingers around dimming and darkening memories. I pick up the pieces of myself.

       And I feel strong again.

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