standing on a hill, looking down below. fragments of what was lay before me. Barefoot I make my way down careful not to step on the broken pieces of my life. Happiness is hiding somewhere along the path. Love left no forwarding address. Laughter is wanting to be found, lost among the shattered life I had known. All I can do is move forward picking up the pieces feeling them slice into my soul. Bleeding, crying, utterly determined I will reach the door that I see down the end of the path. The door that stands representing my inner most hidden soul I will fight to get there. Fight for my life. Fight for the strength I know to be there. And the person who knows me best, Myself.