Trickle down without a sound. Shedding letters as I shed parts of myself. Falling layers as I fall from what I was intended to be. Will I forever miss the image that I was? How long will that picture last to torment me with what was lost?
I shatter it. I break what was and what I wish to be. I learn to accept myself before expecting to be accepted by others. With that knowledge I grow into a better image of myself. The person I was meant to be.