I dare not say that I have morphed fully. Partially, probably. But my quest for wholeness is unending. At the most, up to where my lifetime takes me...
After spinning furiously in a cocoon of silk, gently, slowly, rebuilding me for the three years that has gone by...I glimpse at the reflection of the butterfly that has become me...
My wings still need air to dry. It is not yet time to spread it out and flutter. No, I should not move in haste, lest they become tattered again.
So now, I wait. Tomorrow, my writing begins...
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