I sit and twiddle my fingers.
Trying to grasp for words,
That will accurately convey
My story.

For many years,
I developed dependency,
On people, parties,  pleasures
For quick, yellow bursts of dopamine.

Escape.
I own a gory past to say the least,
Some details too painful
To divulge in their fullness.

I finally faced myself.
I finally sat down with my past
And I finally stared it
In its ugly face

Radio silence, for days
Tears of the years
Spilled from my heart to my bathroom floor, for days and days.

I traced each repressed memory
Like one who cuts themselves
Would trace their scars
Internal scars are even worse sometimes...

I sat with myself
No distractions, no noise, no friends to talk to, just me, myself and our thoughts.
I screamed to the air.

I was utterly naked,
In front of my deepest pains.
Utterly exposed to the elements.
The fire lapped at my heart.

Finally, the sun rose
And spilled light into my veins
As the weight fell off
I changed my name.

“Who I was.”
Changed to
“Who I am.”

“What I’ve done.”
Changed to
“What I will become.”

“Wanderer”
Changed to
“Warrior.”

And

“Victim”
Changed to
“Victorious.”