I’m walking around without a destination in mind. I used to think that was a waste of my time, but now I know that I don’t need to have a specific goal so long as I keep moving forward.

I think I enjoy the night

Because it feels like

The beginning of the end.

I can use that darkness

To find myself again.

In the morning, it’s as if

The broken bits of me

Have become presentable,

Even taking on the form

Of avant garde art;

A patched up soul,

Center stitched heart,

All held together

By a long forgotten truth;

It’s okay if I make mistakes,

And even though it hurts,

I can still believe

That I deserve love.