Crack. I’ve opened. Out it oozes: the frustration, the anger, the sadness, the hurt, the confusion. It all oozes. Constant. Fast. Hard.
The tears follow suit and they pour out, too. I ooze until I’m sitting in a puddle. Instead of feeling like a mess, covered in saltiness and catharsis, I feel powerful, transformed. I look down, and instead of seeing the murkiness that I’ve felt I’ve been drowning in, it’s clear; the puddle is clear, it’s all clear.
I’m taking control, I’m taking this experience and I’m making it mine. I gather everything that has oozed out, and I mix it with care, good intentions, and an extra dash of self-love. I mix it until it’s stronger than before: the love takes hold of the fear, understanding takes hold of anger, freedom takes hold of frustration. They embrace one another, and together they become something beautiful.
I take hold of this amalgamation, and with gratitude, I place it along my cracks. Piece by piece, I put myself back together. I’ve taken everything from the inside, I’ve turned it into something useful. I’ve become whole again, and stronger than before, with new space for the good things coming.
I’m the alchemist of experience.