Ready to wake from this long sleep of winter,
The sun melts the shards that cut, stab and splinter.
Awoken by spring, my soul starts to thaw,
Recalling the person behind the closed door.
Beneath all the fear,
Beneath all the dread,
Here I am waiting, not yet dead.
I can be brave and step outside,
Declare to the world “I haven’t died”.
I am still here. I am still me.
There’s so much beauty left to see.

Claire Lucia-Wright

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