I died.

I don't mean it that way of course,
I don't mean that I, right now,
sitting here, writing this,
am void of a heartbeat
and no longer breathing.

It's just that who I was
who I was in the past
who I wasn't meant to be

Whether I've destroyed her
or she destroyed herself
(either is likely)
she no longer exists to me.

And I'm glad.
Because nowadays
I'm trying to get my life
onto some semblance
of goodness.

I'm making myself eat again.
And that doesn't seem like a big deal
only it is to me
because I'm not even sure
if it's the right thing to do
but I'm doing it anyway.
because I promised myself.

And I don't hurt myself anymore.
I know that seems like a theme
in everything I've written
but it was such a big part of my life
it feels great to write it off.
I still have those razors
and I could anytime I wanted
but I haven't.
And that's

I'm healing myself.
Piece by piece.
And it's both harder
and easier
than I imagined.

It's about taking chances
and making mistakes
and laughing at failure.
It's about taking my time
and not wishing my life away.
It's about doing all the things
I thought about doing
and I promised I'd do
and I thought I'd never do.

It's about thinking,

Each baby step
takes me farther from who I was.
Each is a step
towards who I want to be.
Who I will become.
Who I am becoming.

That girl who hated herself
and wished herself off the earth
broke her own heart
wishing for things she could've had
if only she had looked,
that girl who
blocked everyone, everything out
even the girl she loved
because she couldn't let anyone love her
because she didn't love herself,
that girl who
wished to kill herself,
that girl
because that girl is

She destroyed herself
and I am rising
out of her ashes.

I died.

But my ashes
to live.

I am the