“The perfection of imperfection, and the acceptance in that regard.” Ryan Hurtgen
Fiction. Based on a True Epiphany.
This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
Trigger Warning: our program often motivates people to discuss their trauma. If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, please, take a step back to address emotional flashbacks and trauma before continuing to push yourself. If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or the National Suicide Hotline at (1-800) 273-8255.
I was crafted in the belly of a dragon.
Dripping with bile and sulfuric acid, unleashed onto the world.
The Sun’s flames pumping through my veins.
Hailing to the Father, white hot passion ate me up.
Daughter to the fire, bones ground from ash.
Destiny laid out in front of me.
To only know a love that was chaos.
A love that is gut-wrenching, and painful, and passion.
I looked to the Moon.
Her pale visage pitying me, creature of the flames.
I longed for her, searching her out each night.
Praying she would heal me in cool waves of stardust.
She bore down upon me, tears pouring out.
Waiting for me to ignite.
On my knees I begged her to take me.
Save me from the Sun.
Teach me the love I needed, calm, peace, water.
She knows, she is rippling tides, blossoming flowers, kiss of raindrops,
I know, I am sizzling pavement, cracked stone, broken bones.
Begging she would wash over me, rounding out my edges,
I waited, waited, waited for her.
Clouds tore open and the soothing rain cleansed me.
The Moon closed her eyes, ever knowing.
I remained. All I reigned was fire.