each morning, i wake to find my soul broken into a thousand pieces
and what a privilege that each day grants the opportunity to collect them again
by nightfall, they are no longer scattered, but tempered by emotion, often of the simplest of things
as blood flows from between my fingers, i embrace the pain
after all, that is why i exist, is it not?
to feel all of these things, to bear stoically the agony, and choose to try, just once more
within me dwells an endless reservoir, brimming with inspiration
and if this is the only way in which i may share it with the world, then i shall continue along graciously
for, although my soul may be broken into a thousand pieces, it will never run dry
so long as i choose to try
just once more
