She found herself.
|Life is not consisted of One Big Thing.|
It’s more like A Million Little Things.
And these million little things come and go quicker than you’d imagine.
She’s a queer poet, standing in a room full of people who may or may not hate her.
It didn’t take her long to realize where she was and wasn’t welcome.
She’ll take a deep breath and power through her poem anyway.
She knows about half the room won’t listen... but she keeps writing and performing.
Because it makes her happy.
Maybe the one Little Thing she should’ve savored more was when everything fell apart.
When she became a figure of What Not To Be.
When she did everything to make herself happy, but made everyone else hate her in the process.
And maybe another Little Thing she should’ve savored was immediately after—
When she fell in love with herself again.
When she learned that her worth was not defined by the ones who hardly knew her.
When she wondered where her true self was, she looked within herself and found it.
And in the death of her reputation,
She felt truly alive.