‘Life is like a sharp stick’ she would say in a soothing voice whilst i cried over boys,tumbles and the relentless pressure of school i never knew what she meant until she wasnt there to say it anymore.Life is like a sharp stick its there to offer you amazing things like skewered fruit on sharp sticks but its also there to make you stronger to prod you when you are doubting yourself.

When we were 7 i was crying over bullies and she told me ‘Life is like a sharp stick’ , when we were 14 i was crying over a boy and she said ‘life is like a sharp stick’ , when i was 25 i was crying and i had to tell myself ‘life is like a sharp stick waiting to prod you when you least expect it’.

When you slowly put distance in between us you were never there to tell me life was like a sharp stick instead you were the sharp stick lodged into my side .You dismantled our friendship like a lego set peice by peice bit by bit until nothing remained but the base and then you took that too.You were the sharp stick that slowly made my candle dim in a never ending maze that only you can help me navigate,the map i used to hold was gripped in your hands and torn apart.

As i navigate this maze alone in the dark i realized i will become my own light ,i will assemble my own lego set and i will make my own map in life i will be there to tell myself that life is like a sharp stick and not anyone else and even if the sharp stick pokes i will keep moving forward.