Maybe

How did it feel to look at your hands and see them glowing, putrid stained with pixie dust. Specks of the cleanliness you could only reminisce about. Who knows how long it’s been since your own hands were pure. Since you first gave into the darkness, allowed your hands to scratch that itch and watch them swing for that same spot time and time again. Maybe you tried to stop them. Maybe you longed for the days before it all. Maybe you longed for it so much you stole mine.

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I Choose…

“I choose…

to live by choice, not by chance;

to make changes, not excuses;

to be motivated, not manipulated;

to be useful, not used;

to excel, not to compete;

I choose self-esteem, not self-pity;

I choose to listen to my inner voice, not the random opinion of others.”

-Unknown