True stories are not pretty. We masks ourselves with flowery dances that avoid connecting with hands colliding. We rather hide behind illusions. For touching the raw stings the heart.
Take it back. All those lost dreams you shoved into the corner. They are still yours if you will have them. The box may be broken and the bag unwoven, but your life has yet to begin. Chances are not lost they are taken. Stories unwritten to rewrite.
What if this second hit makes the run that hits home? Believe in your mistakes that brought you to exactly the perfect place. You have it figured out if you would just stick with the knots that hold the fabric together.