After all that has happened, I am still shining, and I will keep shining -- forever.
This is me.
I may not be full of glamor, nor bursting with joy, nor brimming with cheerful songs. But this is me, and if you don't like it, I don't need you here.
I am not the girl I once was. She is gone. Dead. She's deserted me, leaving the 'me' I call 'myself' behind. This is what's left, what's left after the storm. No matter how little I may look like the quiet, peaceful town I once resembled, the tattered and dilapidated dump that reamains after the storm is still the same town. That town is me.
I have lost much, gained little. I have grown much, and have carelessly replaced what was lost with weak links, much weaker than those that could be forged by another. Yet I can make by. I will make by. This tattered heart is several months strong, and something tells me it's still got some fight left in it.
I may not be beautiful, but I do have beauty, the beauty in my steadfast perserverence. I may not be bursting with joy, yet I know that my God is bursting in joy, for I am a survivor. I may not be filled from head to toe with cheerful songs, no, but I do harbor songs. My woeful heart is filled with lonesome melodies, with chilling harmonies, and terrible, tear-touched euphonies. I know I have a chance, sometime in the far, far away future, but as for now, I am all alone.
Yet I will stand.