Healing

It is the decison you make one day, when you had enough of watching everything that

has sinked you down. So, you take the stance and draw a map of yourself and see the

way that sadness has made a home out of you. That was me. I woke up one day and

breathe in the October air and stepped into a coffee shop to write in my journal.

Everyday I am in the coffee shop. Something about coffee shops and a journal makes

me feel blooming, a brown little girl that befriends the sun after a dark day. My words

were proud and dancing outloud. No, I was not alone but I had freedom. Freedom that

balances proudly between woman and girl. All a sudden the field of bitterness is

now a crumble. Regrets burned in paper by a gift of a pen. I have created my happy

space in a place filled with fresh coffee and a journal to express FATIMA. It takes

many cold winters to regret in sorrows but when you finally stand inside yourself,

the ability to express yourself on paper, you then decide to become summer!!Each

time I express myself on paper I watch my puddles turn into a river of stream. I am

healing.

This poem is about: 
Me

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