I have watched life come back to her and it has been a privledge.
her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self inflicted wounds
she owns attitude and humor beyond her years, and when she tells me her story she is humble quiet and kind. shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes
The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds, we miss them in the storms.
Remember Hope. We have hope.