I Am What You Make of Me

All that I am, every breathing and living inch of me has been shaped by every person I have come into contact with.

Hand-me-downs from those I have laughed with, the beautiful faces I have cried with.  Shaped by those I have loved and by those I have lost; formed by the fractured fragments of our shared human frailties.

I am the bastard child of these interactions, a Frankenstein-like creation stitched together with donated parts.  Some good, some bad.  A great big melting pot that can only be defined as miscellaneous.

Some days, the dirty suffocated sponge at the bottom of your kitchen sink and on other days,

I am the marvelous everlasting light creeping through the crack of a door, bleeding through the quiet of the night and illuminating the darkness.

I think I’m okay with that. (:

you know, the yin and the yang.  the bird and the worm.

I am what you make of me, and I am so grateful.