I’m standing in the ashes of who I used to be and I have no idea how to put everything together. I tried to use glue but that just made a mess. A sad gloopy sticky mess. I tried to burn them again but that only made dust. I’m stuck in a mess of my own making. The wind has started sending the ashes flying. It’s getting harder to breathe each day. The ashes are getting stuck in my throat, hair, and eyes, and they are getting lodged deep within my lungs. Even if I somehow survive, the ashes will never be gone. They will be with me forever.
But here’s the thing. I’m not the one who really made these ashes. It was them. The ones who didn’t believe in me. The ones who doubted or hated. The ones who never saw potential and only saw a waste of space. So when I tell you I’m going to make them pay for ever doubting me, that’s not a threat, it’s a promise. I’m going to make them choke on the ashes of the dreams they burned. They will finally know how I feel.