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Poetry & Art

You Broke Me

You broke me. Concrete walls as high as the clouds broken down into the soil used to plant me. Healing is a never ending process but in 30 years I’ll be a full grown oak tree. Starting at the roots, diving head first into my childhood trauma. I wasted my teen years escaping feelings with marijauna. In my twenties I got introduced to clear poison in a glass bottle. Partying was fun until I found myself doing it alone. I knew addiction ran in my family but I drove right into that caution zone. As crazy as this might sound, psychedelics opened my eyes to sobriety. Without liquid confidence I’ve realized I have a ton of anxiety. Each road I take has fallen branches in my way. Obstacles have never stopped me from pushing myself further to stay another day.

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