If you were to pass through my house, you might notice a peculiar sight.

Wall trim and corners broken, snapped, and cracked.

Never very high up or ever further than a few feet off the ground.

To the unfamiliar appearing like a hungry beaver had been left unattended for days on end.

But I know better than to let my imagination run wild.

I know that the cause is myself.

***

My baby steps remain on the doors and walls.

A scuff from a tire at three years old as I get overly hyper and lose control.

That fragment I snapped off at six with my footrest when not paying attention and got scolded.

Scratch on the bedroom door from a teenage temper tantrum.

All still left in their place.

All relics of a time long past and old.

***

Of course I wish I could repair every single one.

Signs of past failures and mistakes that no longer represent my ability.

But they remain and remain as a symbol of progress.

From where I came from in life and not where I am.

A mindset that has helped me move past their existence.

For I cannot fix them with my own ability.

***

Now I pass by the damage and cracks but do not see them.

I used to ask my father to take the time to fix it but no longer.

A plea that fell on deaf ears.

I cannot rely on another to solve that kind of issue.

I may not be able to physically solve the issue myself.

But the power lays in me.