I sit down on the grass and look down at the landscape stretched below me. A landscape alight with the luscious shades and hues of high summer: golden wheatfields bowing in homage to the sun, shady wooded glades of emerald green; clusters of heather, mauvy pink and paling peach, and then the wafting poppy fields, as red and as freely flowing oin that brisk wind as fresly drawn blood spurting from an open wound. The scarlet induces within me a shudder, inevitbly turing my thoughts to the pain deep inside.

I turn my euyes away from this external beauty to examine something alot more closer and known, that being the contours and inclines of my own body. I stare for a long time at the thighs and the arms. 

Freedom. Its a word which I once didnt comprehend the true meaning of. but with the passig of years in recovery came a maturiry, a growth, an increased awareness and understanfding.