Tears of Yesturday

As I cried myself to sleep, unintentionally; I dreamt myself surrounded in a flood of tears of all types. Happiness, relief, regret, extreme guilt, loses, gains, changes, heartache, etc. This short life that I have lead so far that feels like 100 mixed into 1. All of my secrets lay in front of me. I am dead. A shell of my old self. I have transformed from lots of trama, abuse, love, kindness, hope and everything in between. I am not the old painfully shy me. I may look the same but I am different. Introverted indeed…but, not by force. I am free to express myself as I choose. To be silenced no more by the darkness that used to overpower me every single day. 

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