I searched for a piece of hay in a heaps of straw. Seems fitting that the hay was stuck in my hair the whole time, that all I had to do was look in the mirror.
But, I found it!
I finally found who I was and a place where could belong. A place where my soul could be fed and I could grow into me.
Life pumped into my poisoned veins and I felt for the first time in I don't even know how long. Tears, so many tears, filled with hate and love. History came crashing back and I was there, bare and raw in the middle of my storm.
I made it out, albeit in pieces. It was messy. I still am messy. I will always be broken, in my own little way.
I thought my brokenness could be used and appreciated, because it's fluid - easy like a drunk slut on Halloween, thriving on a pinch of attention.
I thought my soul could shine, not like the sun, but like moonlight on a black night. It's strong, eager, and capable of many things when tended to.
It wasn't meant to be. The signs were there, I just needed to step away from the mirror.
I'm back to empty and abandoned.
Back to filling space in time and doing it on my own.
Back to a person that fills a spot on the couch, because it's impossible to find a spot at his feet that doesn't exist.