Some would believe there is an ugliness in them. An act of being broken that cannot be fixed. A line drawn where they end, and merely exist.
But I see more in you than terribleness and ills. You are more than ruin. Inside you and all of us is the act of creation, and the will of love. Something that can be undone temporarily, but not broken.
And maybe you've come to believe you do not have enough time to believe in that anymore. Maybe you believe there are no more chances for you, your voice, your love or your life...my dear, you are not a puddle, but a well.
And you owe it to yourself to know better. To believe in the truth that will set you free. Deep down within you is something more capable than incapable. Something more than ugliness, but beauty. There is passion that sits in you and waits, not expires.
Reach out with patience and in time you may see, the lines you create have always been a thing of love. -------------------------
