Maybe all the dirty imperfect stained parts of the space that is my room is a sign
that i’ve lived
opposed to filth and shame
and maybe it does represent this inner landscape i live in every day
there are impurities woven in my soul
my choices
but they are part of what makes me whole. and i can look at them
and maybe love them like i love the impurities of others
too
the sound of awareness that i carry echos within the four walls that hold me each night
maybe i am deserving
worthy of the gratitude i feel for everything else
i am also grateful for the privilege of living,
leaving
Imperfection in the space that is my room
