Butter and Nails

It is a bizarre feeling to go to bed on a Monday night and your world is perfect, only to wake up Tuesday and have everything turned to a giant stick of melted butter. Once the butter melts its next to impossible to have it mold itself back into stick form. Even if you do get the butter to look like a stick again, it will never be whole since there is still melted butter residue left in the bowl it melted in.

That's how I feel right now, like a giant stick of melted butter. Each time I pull myself together, I lose a giant chunk of my myself. I try to walk with my head held high and the confidence I once had, but I'm pretty sure that part of me was washed down the sink a long time ago. When the smoke clears and I'm able to finally rebuild myself, what will be left of me? A shell of what was once there.

We live in a country with a judicial system that claims we are "innocent until proven guilty," yet we don't live by those standards in our own personal lives. I have been prosecuted and convicted before I was even accused. While the world was plotting against me, I was enjoying life and smelling the roses.

As I write this, I am fully aware that there will be individuals who will read this and will try to analyze what I've wrote in the hopes to find an ounce of ammunition against me, but you will find none. I am a defeated woman who has already been broken down. My once vibrant spirit has been annihilated and pulverized. You can't break someone's spirit when it has already been destroyed.

While I may wake up each morning fearing what the day will bring, I know I will get through this. I refuse to play these elementary school games and will not fight fire with fire. I will fight back the flames with the help if the fire department. And when the smoke clears and a pile of ashes lays at my feet, I will rise from these ashes to reclaim what us mine. I may not be the same vibrant person I once was, but I will be stronger and smarter than ever before.