My eyes sting when I wake, but at least I’m alive. The pressure in my head grows, but I remember that breathing is a treasure. If I keep my heart full, then a part of me will live forever. These acts feel sacred- even when I’m sad. The world doesn’t know my spirit. It’ll never understand me- so I live in its space with caution. I don’t overstay my welcome. I breathe it’s air. I show it no fear. I’ll feel everything at once and remember how my words make me human. Make me scarred. Make me read. It’ll turn into the sea and fall down my cheeks. All the bad things will be bad, but the good will be good too. My eyes sting when I wake up, but at least I’m alive. -AMT.