12 months

Lay down your weapons, darling
The war is in the head
Don’t put your faith in edges and sharps
Their bitter fangs run like razors trough your mind

A new day is rising
Take a deep breath, dear
Inhale the divinity of existence
You, too, were chosen

Broken mirrors only reflect corrupted thoughts
Knives and scissors can’t tear down your walls
Deep inside there’s a sheltered shore
A distant kingdom of piece and lore

So close the drawer and end the fight
These loving words will be your relief tonight

What can I say? 12 months. That means it’s been a year since I made one of the best decisions in my life in throwing away my tools of self harm. Since then, trough good and bad times, I haven’t picked up the habit a single time. I’ve had thoughts about it, I admit. The brain has a curious way of seeking it’s old, accustomed patterns.
But I’ve never given in, not even once. I recently came to realize that if that isn’t something truly worth praising and celebrating for, then what is?

And I give myself the same promise that I shall never again see a red day of agony on my skin again, not in my entire life. I have found meaning and love in all possible aspects, and even though times can be hard there are some roads that I’ll never cross again.

To a healthy, loving life.

– Malicia Frost 

Senast överförda

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