She stood and looked into the mirror. The music in the background faded into muffled sounds. She stared hard at herself. She felt her chest rise and fall, her heart seemed to slow instantly. She was different. Part of her felt sore. Not in her muscles or bones. But in her soul. Her journey to this point, had been rigorous. Some times, it even felt impossible. She had lost count of all the times she had given away parts of herself, only to be left empty handed in return. She didn't understand why she couldn't just say no. Why she felt so fucking compelled to save others. All she knew was that it made her feel at peace when she did. But, eventually that faded. She became worn and cold. Her mind ran her in circles leaving her with a mold that others made for themselves. Her wings were ripped and she wanted them back. But today, as she looked at herself she felt a fire in the pit of her stomach. She saw in her eyes, the flicker of hope she had lost. She felt it all shift in her chest, and fall into her stomach like grains of sand in an hour Glass.
She came this far, and it wasnt because of them. She walked through the fires of hell, the depths of the unknown, the oceans of dispair. She heard herself echo in her own mind. All the times she ever said she was sorry, when she had no reason to be. She wasn't going to say it ever again unless she meant it. She felt it. All the times she gave her pride and body and heart, to fix all of the holes in the souls she had met. But, they never truly changed, what she gave was never enough. It was hard to admit that love alone couldn't fix anyone. they had to be their own heroes. She felt foolish and used. But never again. Should would not let anyone pick her petals for the satisfaction of saying they once loved her beauty. No. She would only love if she got back every inch of her love in return. She would only cry if there were finger tips to wipe her tears. She would only be found, if someone was willing to walk through her abyss and not fear what was on the otherside.
This was her. The queen, the fallen angel, the imperfect goddess. This was HER. She would never lose this again.
© Aren