She draws the bath again. The water cascades onto her broken limbs; for a moment there is relief. The scars carry stories she has yet to tell, but knows she has found the courage to speak. And the cycle continues: pain, fight, improve, decline. Pain, fight, improve, then decline. It could drive even the strongest soul into madness but not hers. She has sat inbetween the realms of turning into a ghost then coming back alive again. Fallen into the shadows, forgotten and left to the erosion of time. Fallen into a battle that never ends but always begins.
But she washes away the pain and tears of the day, as if they never existed each night. And the sun rises, the cycle awaits, but each smile she creates makes it worth it all. Each hand that reaches out to break her fall, makes it worth it all. Because even pain can teach us something; make us treasure the smallest gestures of a good soul, inhale the aroma of fresh coffee in the morning, and make us grateful for all the moments some people take for granted.
(This is especially for my fellow crps warriors out there). ❤