I halt my step and look back
to the pieces scattered along my trail,
remnants of those moments I once called
breakdown.

Darkness is all I remember,
but now I see glowing fragments,
burnt like a phoenix—
their light flickers from behind,
illuminating my path
as I resume my journey
into the pitch-black ahead.

Their flashes gently remind me:
good recollections do not always age well,
and days when I felt like
suffocated, empty puppets
may become memories of an end,
and an awakening.