I will brush the blood and gravel from these weary knees.
I will stand and sift through the glorious ash of the girl too afraid to live.
I will gather up the good pieces left refined
And leave the rest to become ink and scars.
I will put to good use this needle and thread.
I will allow to mend what has been left torn open.
I will open wide, wiser eyes and seek.
I will sing a new song.
I will emerge less of her ….
and so very much more.