Moving on

Moving on
There's a road... It is called moving on. It will show you your strengths but make no mistake; it will magnify your weaknesses. It will mold you, like a potter, into that which you ought to be and not what you want to be. You will be glazed over the fires of life while you travel on this road. But that's alright. It's a means to an end, the rediscovery of the self and the deep-seated magic in you.
This will be your journey to your re-independence. You will reclaim that which was once yours. It won't come easy though. There are days you will lose your faith. You will submit to self pity. Your demons will hunt you. The ghosts will haunt you. When you pass through the paths with thorns, they will cut straight through your flesh. It will hurt and you will wish you could at least walk on air. You will realize that you were not as smart after all, at least not as much as you thought. You will go on your knees and look up to the sky. No signs of a miracle. It will just not come. But the strange gray clouds will and they will metamorphose into the shapes of the demons and ghosts you run away from in all vanity.
In the dark of the night, you will soak your pillow with your weary tears as you try to find your solace at the bottom of the bottle. In the worst case, you will take a puff of marijuana or two. You will cough when your lungs rebel...and then at least you will realize you are not cut from that clothe. You will put out the roll and go back to your bottle and pillow. You will wake up with swollen eyes but you will put on those dark shades and go to the local grocer. You can't keep up with the hunger.
You will deviate from your path and find yourself in the park. In your thoughts you will silently mutter "Lord, give me a sign." You finally see it. Right before you, that flower. It blossoms. It shines, it does not care that there are other flowers around. It doesn't compete with the red one, or the white one. It doesn't even seem to mind the rose. Yet the beautiful butterfly chose it. It flies gracefully and rests on it's orange petal. There it is. An epiphany.
You now know that it doesn't take anybody else to define who you should be. You know now, you don't have to be like her or him to be accepted by the one who broke you down this bad. You realize that your butterfly will choose you for what you are. Not what you are supposed to be. You know that you have always been an impure version of yourself. You are the MIRACLE you ask for. You are the MAGIC.
You are the groove of the party but also the whisper in the wind. You are the fire but you are also the ice. You soar high but you also swim the depth of the sea. You are the stars that shine and you are the raindrop that gives life to the barren ground. You are the sky but every bit the earth too. You are elegance. You are freedom. You are grace. You are justice. You are just, MAGIC.
You begin to accept the brokenness of you. They are all a part of you now. The pure, stronger version of you. You do not accept the societal standards of what you should be, let alone one person's standards. You know now, that in this wide world of ours, your blueprints are forever yours. There has never been and there will never be another even in close likeness of you. You are now wallowing in a different kind of dungeon, a dungeon of hope, damn!! You even feel almost swallowed by it. You no longer believe in perfection. You believe in the magic of you.
A few moments of self doubt come your way, but you now know better. You are more than a skeleton and flesh. You are moving on. Your fragile wings become stronger and with time, you start to soar high like the vultures. You begin to understand that uncertainty is the beauty of tomorrow. You worry less and love more. You let your guard down. Then you see it again. The right one has always been there. He or she has waited for this moment. You embrace them and the tears that flow say "welcome home." Can it get any better?

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