When you hit rock bottom,
When you can no longer stand because of the weight on your back,
When the darkness has won and you claw at the dirt
Not to escape, but to scrape out a hole in which you can curl up and die,
That is the exact hour it will happen.
That is when the scream within you will shatter the walls of your prison
That is when beans of courage will sprout from the earth beneath your nails,
That is when the ridges on your back will ripple into Atlas-ian action.
That is when you will rise.
That is when you will grow.
Words © Carly Dugmore