The rising and the falling, but always the trying.

I am here, trying to heal my wounds, and turn my scars into reasons as to why I am stronger – into reasons why I’m going to get through the dips in life. I hope.

Picture Prompt

They were soft and weathered now. Probably full of mites. It would be like sitting on paper mache that smelled of smoke and rain, and maybe a hint of the beef stirfry from the food vendor nearby. Once, though, they were strong. Their scent of pine hidden by the amalgamation of perfume and hair spray...