The Warrior’s Rebirth

Dear Delyara, I used to be afraid of the dark, but then I realized the dark is where the stars live. I have spent too much time trying to be "fixable," as if I were a broken machine. Tonight, I decided I am not a machine; I am a garden. Gardens need winter to grow. I wrote about the seasons of my life that felt cold and dead, and I realized they were just preparing me for a spring I hadn't seen yet. I am not the same person who walked in here an hour ago. I have shed a skin that was too tight. I am planting new intentions in the ink. I am growing, even in the shadows.