Black Heart

Previously

…Not despair, but a quiet strength blooming in the ruins. The pieces were still scattered, but they were mine. And in their scatteredness, I was beginning to find a profound, quiet kind of wholeness. The truth of the mirror was not in its reflection of perfection, but in its honest portrayal of a self that was, and always had been, beautifully, complexly, and irrevocably, my own. The sting of tears had subsided, replaced by a quiet, steady glow that emanated from within. The dawn was not a distant promise; it was a gentle unfolding, right here, right now, within the shattered, yet ever-evolving, landscape of my heart.