These words turn to rot before I am able to finish them, but I will try my best to let you know that you ruined me, all of me, and left me to burn with the pyre that you burnt to keep me warm, but I survived. I survived, swollen ribs, splintered heart, bloodied fists and all.
And I wish I could tell you that the aching was a beautiful rebirth of some magnificent kind. But there is no beauty to be found in this kind of survival.
That these walls I have constructed around my heart and the fortress I raised of iron and ore to keep you out and all the hurt you’ve caused. And while I have become successfully numb to the aching you’ve left burrowed deep within, in places I never knew healing could reach,
I have also forgotten how to love again, and there is no beauty in slowly relearning how to feel something that I’ve known since birth.
— “THIS IS NOT A BEAUTIFUL REBIRTH” Nicole Moon