I found a piece of myself today.

It was pretty hard to find under all of the construction.

Under all the madness.

The grief.

The rage.

I found that small part of me that loves to put pen to paper.

The tedious process of picking the right words to put on the page.

But not so tedious as if I was writing for someone else's benefit.

Under the construction I could see the piece burning a light from beneath the rubble.

It wanted to be seen.

To be heard.

And only I could give it a voice.

Give it meaning.

Finding that piece gave me hope.

Realizing I don't have to sucum to the damage.

I can build something better from the ashes to be reborn again.