considering the last two years. remembering how wounded i was this time two summers ago. it makes me ache to think of it, really.
there are places to go when you are broken by this life. you can disappear into a bottle. you can move on and seek out the mysteries of the next world. you can cower in a dream. you can crawl out from under and face the next day.
some turn to ghosts while still alive. some don't hang on long enough to see the sunshine again. some grit their teeth and endure it all.
me? i outlived Despair's killing blow.
ghost
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