“Every time I think I am healed, another wound whispers beneath my skin, another memory rises like smoke from the ashes of old versions of me, but maybe healing is not a destination, maybe it is the brave act of walking through your own ruins and still planting flowers.”
R.M. Drake
credit to the artist via Pinterest
R.M. Drake
credit to the artist via Pinterest
“Every time I think I am healed, another wound whispers beneath my skin, another memory rises like smoke from the ashes of old versions of me, but maybe healing is not a destination, maybe it is the brave act of walking through your own ruins and still planting flowers.”
✍️ R.M. Drake
🎨credit to the artist via Pinterest
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