I spent my time letting my hands die in the arms of my own body
I broke the chains of slavery yet broke myself in the process
I drank my spit with a dry swallow and discontent for what that meant
My legs tensed and I, like most of the time, felt disgust with myself
And though this was new and strange
I’d known it for some time now and it wasn’t getting easier
My eyes welled up but not enough to form a tear
At least not at this point
And my teeth grinding at the thought of what was happening to my body
But again I said this had happened all too often
And lastly I thought of my day
And the whirlwind I was in that brought me to my own demise
And I wondered why this has happened so often
And each time a bit worse than the last or at the very least a horrifying reality
My fingers felt different than my own and my depression from what they said
Would be to blame but I thought of this much differently
And not in the sense that i did not feel depressed
Just in the sense that the only thing I knew how to feel was death
Death of a self or a hand or even a time in place that I could not accept
I thought that everyday must be like this
And this is why I felt alone or rejected
At wits end or neglected
Why I felt like no one understood or like I was the only one standing in a room
And even with no words leaking from my mouth
My cintrivical force still beared witness to the pain that existed around me
And though my confusion consumed me
My eye began to shed a tear
And my left knee buckled up
And even though my right pointer finger was not to be found
And ultimately made my teeth grind again at the thought
I still was able to exist
Even in this poem
Even in this world
I was here
And the tear fell down my cheek
And thinking of you made it fall harder
The hardest thing I’ve ever experienced Was in the eyes of someone I’d described my pain to
And their go to was to make me feel it again or some part of it to an extent
Their first instinct was to let me relive it through them
As if the pain initially was not enough to comprehend
And that’s where I come to end
This poem or this explanation
That everyone has something to prove
And if it cannot be done through them
They will choose your pain as a way to regain theirselves in vein
And to say this is a joke
Well my only hope
Is that you are not another to
Let my heart be revoked
Of its own truth