A new beginning, that’s what today is.
A breathe of fresh air, a taste of something new. I’ve been holding onto this stale, sick air inside so long I began to rot. Inside that long held breath are the many grudges I have held against many people. The vengance that I was burning to seek. All those poems about anguish, pain, resentment... My muses are nothing but stale air.
I have a new muse now... it is me, not a new me. Just the one I forgot, the one I threw away because she was too weak, useless to the bitter old me. She’s been lying quietly beneath the mask of pain and hate, quietly growing stronger. From a seed to a tree, feed off the rotting corpse of my hatred of the world, being nourished and learning from the hurt.
Now I am free, broken from the ground, away from the rotting stench that kept me so consumed and I gasp. I taste it.
My first breathe of fresh air.