The Coveted Prize (Journal Entry)


Tainted memories, faint and bittersweet. Tossed to the wolves, lost with the sheep. Picking up the pieces but I got nothing left to own. Tapped out long before I knew the life that leads to love.

If living were an art form, and love were the coveted prize; my canvas is a heaping pile of confettied hearts and lies. Patched up into patterns, each a lesson to be learned. A mosaic of possibilities that have not yet matured.

As the pieces come together, a story begins to shape. A metaphored epiphany emerges from the maylay. Seems my life is full of heartache, full of lies to fill the void as I fall into those patterns that terrorize my joy. But the lessons I have learned are more than I can hide as I await the possibility of love, the coveted prize.

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