The second she refused to cry when hurt by an adult whose job it was to love and protect her, she breathed her final breath of childhood.

The second when, at the age of 6, she accepted her peripheral status in society, she breathed her final breath of self-esteem.

The second when he walked by her without so much as a nod the morning after fucking her (her first fuck,) she breathed her final breath of a romantic spirit.

The second her firstborn turned away from her, she breathed

her final breath of joy.

The second her marriage ended, she breathed her final breath

of who she was.

Years later, a rainbow begins to appear in her evening sky.

She has recovered the breath of her inner-child.

She has come to learn to rejoice in the rebirth of her self-esteem.

She has experienced the essence of a romantic spirit in the embrace of all nature has to offer.

Within the wealth of her love for her firstborn, she releases him and inhales unconditional love.

With each and every breath from here on out, she beholds with delight who she is.

And, so it is, until that last final breath - the one that will propelher home where all will be love.

By Fran Pearce

From: United States

Instagram: franpearce3

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/franpholisticharmoniesca