More than wounds

My heart breaks a little more with each new day, but for once in my life, I’m not letting emotions rule me. If I did, then I might never get out of bed. I’m not putting my head down to lick my wounds. That’s just the way it has to be, so I can keep traipsing on. Someday soon I’ll have to give them some attention; I’ll glance downward to really see them for the first time, and my awareness will make them hurt even more. I may start to panic at their depth. Then I will have to remember what I know right now: that I am more than the sum of my wounded parts.

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