I thought my catharsis was death,
slowly falling into a hole of darkness
rotting against soil
that would bring life again,
giving up eternity to be happy
for one single second
I thought death would bring me closer
to peace.
Six feet under sounded like
an inevitable place
found too early by my fate
of unhappiness within
tired eyes and cracking bones
it was too late to turn back
from the future I was building myself
with glass and dirt.
I thought relief would come
right after the pain
left my body,
singing songs of who I used to be
but destroyed in order to be whole again,
memories of what could have been
but became impossible when I chose
to look for release
in a damaging
damning place.
Instead,
I found catharsis
in killing who I was at the time
and becoming someone new,
painting a picture of rebirth
and taking it out on the page
instead of my skin,
looking beyond an inevitable demise
and seeing light.
I found catharsis
within myself,
begging to be created new
in the image of someone
that was happy
and believed it.