Still standing like Rocky after all his fights -- battered, bruised, but all heart. Because underneath the steel and concrete, it’s a softy.
Tainted by my own mess, I had just cause to feel numb, unsure and insolent toward life, and I kept trying to bleed a bit more into a vial that couldn’t be filled. It soon became evident that clinging to resentment was too hard, and my results were more than redundant, cold and tiresome.
That you can stand and look at yourself in a mirror and see your goodness right there, see the worth of what you bring on the surface of your skin, just like I do. That you trust there is brilliance to come. That you own what is yours to own, both the bad and the good. That you do not insist on ...