The words beyond me
are very well known.
Despite the lack
of presence shown.
It's taken time, and
pain, and sorrow,
to find myself growing,
no longer dreading tomorrow.
Inside of me
resides a feast of
Love, and Pain,
and so much Trauma.
Yes, it's been stewing.
I'm no longer brewing.
I've long awaited
for the calm,
To be able to say:
the storm I became has abated.
No longer jaded
As words bloom
because they're releasing meaning.
I'm no longer full of hatred.
No longer fearing to be hated.
For the poison I gathered
wasn't only me who it effected
and left tattered, shattered, and confused.
During my drinking I wasn't the only one abused,
or misused.
My heart couldn't take the pain
of what broken pieces left remained.
I was never taught, skilled or trained
to deal with life beside
intentions that truly mattered.
Broken ribs, contusion contained chest,
small *******, big brained, lungs stained,
soul shaking, adventure-seeking fearful heart,
child with no father, no mother, no sister or brother.
Afraid to speak because she's said too much, a crutch.
Crutch upon the Devil's flame. Crutch upon his name.
All that I distained became all that I obtained.
Creation is a work of art if it comes from within the heart.
Yet with a heart full of poison, hellbent on consumption,
feeling empowered by destruction, self-hating coward,
shallow affections that were showered.
As I am
no longer drinking myself downward
and see myself moving forward I've
found that everything matters
(again).
Nothing lost it's meaning as I felt that
I could remain strong against others,
while at the same time self-defeating.
No longer holding onto pain.
I've begun to release
(again).
There's no mercy left for being shattered.
No more shattering, slashing, smashing,
self-hating suicidal tendencies or fantasies.
No, I am not healed fully.
No, I am not all knowing.
No, I am not perfect.
No, I am not giving up.
No, I am not going backwards
for sifting through the memories.
I must sift through to lift through
this heaviness.
I must walk this steep mountain
that seemingly leads
as far away as
to the birth of our galaxies.
Full of lessons unknown
I must create and be shown.
I must abstain from the comforts created within my pain.
Yes, I will open my heart once again
and I will not turn away when the reality hurts
just as much as I'm about to explain.
Pros come and go. I want for them to stay.
Not in my mind, but on the page anyway.