My selfhood is gone, what do I do with what is left?
I want to behave better, people look at me and see possibility, they see strength, they ponder why I would choose to stay stagnant. I want to progress. How do I overcome the trepidation, when I feel nothing but nakedness, vulnerability?
My burned edges are clothed with the love of defenders, those who wish me well. Even the cover of love hurts right now. I have to shake it from me, I have to stand like a singed tree whose missing bark will never grow back. Hoping the parts of me that remain will grow and protect the holes left from pieces burned away.