Fists

These fists of mine were once so tightly gripped that a sense of calm seemed unfathomable..

These fists once exposed deeply glowing veins, once shaded a prismatic blue now morphed a midnight black. This toxicology of symbiotes conjured up from current anger, sadness and frustration..

These fists once self harmful, not wanting to be, but no other solution in ending the internal pain presented itself…

These fists even became unrecognizable at one point, too thick a layer of unacceptance and brokenness hazed over their simplicity and gentleness…

But, sometimes you have to break in order to become whole again…

These fists nowadays aren’t crushed nor concerned by societal ignorance. These days they are strong when needed, confident with their form, gentle with themselves and the world…

These fists now glow that prismatic blue, healthy and content. Every toxic cell destroyed, eaten away…

These fists were never asked for, yet without them a piece of who I am would be missing.

I became such a strange shape from trying to fit in.. -Fall Out Boy

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