January 30, 2008
By amanda gresham, Cincinnati, OH

"On the day of giving up, the rain poured down onto my guilt stricken shoulders and fell through the blame on my back. It ran over the dirt on my surface making it disappear and reveal suffocating familiar skin; skin that was beaten down by worry and remained lost ever since. The tender wind grasped each strand of my worn hair, easing my mind and leaving it like it had once been. I could breathe for the first time. As the gravel stabbed my knees, a feeling crawled up from the pit of my stomach, straining my voice of real agony, emptying my redemption seeking soul. In that release of pain that had been so long restrained inside of me, my tired body whispered something of relief. Then the sun crept up from the distance casting a warm beauty on my face and dried my tears to dust that was carried away from me. It seemed the world had finally sent me a miracle."

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