She is someone I’ll never forget. Her long black hair, her facial piercings, but most of all her eyes — those big blue eyes. There were times you could be lost if you looked right into them, carried away by the current of pain they displayed. I’ll never forget how she abused her body, how she struggled so hard to measure up. Fighting to be thin, fighting to be drunk, to be numb, to express something, even if it meant razors on the flesh.
She was in the dark, with absolutely no connection, without hope.
She died on that October day, but rose again with His peace in her heart, his grace made perfect pumping through her veins. I’ll never forget who she was, her grace-full dance boasts of His power.