I am what is left of me
I used to insist. Insist for things to fit into place. Insist to myself, one foot after the other, that the road was long but the reward was worth the walk. I used to fight every urge to not be my very own savior. I never needed anyone. One of many gems on my flex crown. I could do it all. I was fierce, fiery, fearless. Yes, I was. There is a lack of motivation that dives my world head first into quicksand. It used to be a myth. Just a story to scare the kid in me. It's funny how history brings perspective, changing what was once norm to discarded behavior. It is certainly crazy to see the heights I used to frequent, now nothing but a distant memory. An illusion of the past becomes the hunter in my waking nightmares. The unhinged need to try, only to fall on my face and break my pride and joy into shame and dread. No one, absolutely no one ever told me to be ready for the day when everything I had built would be reversed by my own literal flesh. Every inch of muscle gained, every