She looks in the mirror.
She is lost, cold and sad.
She has stepped footsteps in the snow, they
Melted away with the sun.
Will never return.
It has taken a long time to open up old
Scar as she must learn to live with.
She crushes the mirror, the blood flows
from her hand.
It hurts, but not as bad as her pain within.
She will be whole again and.
She is scared, alone and miserable.
She’s a mess.
She picks pieces ofherself up bit for bit
again after being crushed.
Thinking back on her past.
A child, a little girl, one childhood.
She was good at being a nice girl.
She was good at making herself invisible.
She was good at different survival
She was good at protecting herself.
She was good at many things that children
should never be good at.
The flashbacks stand in line in her mind as
a horror movie you will never watch.
She try to take care of her mind and heart.
It hurts so much.
It never goes away.
A twisted mind that made her so
She lost her grip.
Her childhood lay over her like a black
She didn’t want to live.
She didn’t want to die.
Because she knows that death gives no
return ticket to life.
She wants to disappear a little and come
back when everything was fine.
She has a mental pain that is always
associated with thoughts and feelings.
A heart full of grief because it is shattered
over the years
and evokes anxiety that is looking after
in nooks inside her body where she can’t
grasp it and
the anxiety can sprout and grow in line
with dark thoughts.
She often feels trapped.
As in a spider web spinning around her
body and squeezing,
and she can`t breathe.
She stopped living.
She did not give herself her own freedom.
She lives in the shadow of herself.
She deceives herself and says it will be
It won’t be good again until she grabs
There is no one who can walk this heavy
road for her.
Only she can.
It hurts to acknowledge that she needs
She has several things in life to live for,
they deserve her healthy and the best
version of her.
When she was at her darkest spot in the
abyss where she had to make
a choice, to heal herself and be
whole again she started
writing, painting and drawing.
She started blogging to reach out to others
with the same pain.
If she could just reach another person with
her voice and tell
them that you are not alone.
It warmed her heart.
She felt a spark within again.
Then she sought help, and it is not a shame
to apply for this.
After hours and hours she was talking out
about her many of hers trauma,
her soul began to flourish again.
She again found the artist soul in her.
Starting with blank sheets is not easy.
She had to close a chapter in her book
about her life
that was challenging to accomplish.
There are no more chapters in the past,
it is over now.
Only then, the joy in her heart began to
She accepts the painful reality she
all her childhood over years.
She fades the painful, sad and hurting
fills up with good memories and new colors
in her life.
What she still practices a lot is how to not
because she became a expert on that and
talk herself down, because over years she
was never good enough.
The process is tough, but she doesn’t want
the shadows of the past again.
She has started gluing pieces together.
Pieces of her broken heart.
Pieces of a soul in grief.
Many and big scars with a life lesson she
shouldn’t have had,
but eventually no open wounds.
There will always be cracks in what is
glued together, she cannot hide it.
She tries to paint over with her paintbrush
so it should not
be visible on the outside.
She interprets herself as a fragile butterfly,
because they mean something special to
Step by step, as a butterfly grows and
she hopes to find her true colors in life.
A new meaning.
She is fragile and vulnerable, but has
become braver and wants to fly.
She has been happy again and soon, only
soon can she be on the right path in life.
She has started to color her white wings
and started flying a little.
It is only her mind that can grab itself from
the abyss with some help and be good
Never gives up.
A dandelion child.
Time does not heal all wounds, but she can
learn to live with the scars.
There is a glimpse of hope in the broken