I left you in May and you broke me in July,

As I began my first year off,

You took the opportunity to fire first,

Bleeding out as I entered the unknown.

 

I worked with immigrants in the morning,

I studied mathematics intensively in the evening,

Still I cannot bare the betrayal of yesterday,

Still I cannot focus on what is to be tomorrow.

 

Winter is here but this is no game,

My body rips and construction builds,

Death is in every corner,

Luck merely saved my battered soul.

 

I joined a brotherhood of laborers,
Marcos from Guatemala,
Francisco from Mexico,
Valentin from Spain.

 

There was no what if or what,

There was no madness of love,

There was no comfort working from above,

There was pain and time to grieve.

 

To find yourself you have to let go,

Let go of everything you fear to lose,

Let go of all that you have lost,

Let go of that which will not be.

 

My fingertips smashed from my own mistakes,

My heart heavy from the sorrows of past,

My mind machine-like on what is to be done,

My mission clear but my soul unconquered.

 

As I return to my studies this coming May,

As you now seek to know who I have become,
Know that you left me to die,
Know that I have risen and my purpose is anew.