She had been running for so long, chasing fleeting moments that promised escape but delivered emptiness. Each thrill pulled her further from herself, spinning her into a chaos she couldn’t control. But one night, at the edge of it all, a quiet voice rose within her, urging her to stop and find her center. Like a dancer mid-pirouette, she fixed her focus on something steady—a glimmer of hope buried deep inside. In that stillness, she chose to face the pain she had been fleeing, stepping onto the path of healing and toward a life built on intention, not escape.

Through shattered glass and broken dreams, she found her sanctuary. Each step, each spin, became a silent vow to rebuild what life had unraveled. In the rhythm of movement, she learned balance—not just on the dance floor, but in her heart.

*********************
Beneath the weight of sorrow’s veil,
A tender soul began to pale.
Through shattered glass and broken dreams,
Life unraveled at its seams.

The child, once bright, with laughter's glow,
Learned early what it means to know
That love can wane, that bonds can break,
That silence deepens every ache.

The garage was her stage, a haven carved from cement and clutter where she danced beneath the shifting light of a setting sun. With a headset snug over her ears—a Christmas gift from Grandmother—she spun through her own world, escaping the cries of a newborn brother and the ache of feeling out of place in her mother’s new family. Each plié was a whispered plea, each leap a shout into the void: Notice me. I’m still here. In this space, surrounded by tools and flickering reflections, she found solace and strength, one step at a time.

Through lonely halls of youthful pain,
She danced her steps in hope’s refrain.
Each plié, a whispered plea,
'Let this be my sanctuary.'