Growth

I have never cherished my being.
When I was a teenager I would fill my lungs
Until they were overflowing with smoke
in hopes to end my days of despair.

The flowers did not begin to flourish in my
veins until I allowed sunlight into life.
Wild fields of resilience sprouted as I harvested the truth
of what it means to be grounded.

Excruciating progress
lifted my spirit from pitiful to inspiring.
It took an immense amount of strength to
hollow my bones from the smoke that used to linger.

My hands are tree limbs
sprouting to reach the highest heights my hopes could yearn for.
My roars of empowerment soared wildly from me into the atmosphere.
And I loved my presence.