I haven\'t seen my room
In 83 days.
I panicked the first time I saw
it, forcing myself to
Breathe, work on the skills
you\'ve spent so long perfecting
1, 2, 3, hold, 1, 2, 3, exhale
Fucking breathe.
I left with no more than
a suitcase, a blanket, a stuffy
and a little blue shoulder bag.
I walked out with so much more,
Six new stuffies,
A long list of skills,
And a lack of addiction.
I walked out with a life.
The only thing I can
hope for now,
is that all the effort,
all the work, blood, sweat,
and tears, were worth surviving
to live for my future.
I can only hope, and luckily,
I have that spark.