Paralyzed.
Frightened.
I’ve lost connection to myself.
Yes, I function. But just barely.
I function to survive.
It’s consuming.
It consumes me
every minute of the day.
So much it has me drifting,
drifting long and far away.
My shell remains a presence;
yet it’s vacant, barely there.
While it holds a place amongst us,
it’s a space that can’t be filled.
Because she’s been forgotten.
Forgotten by myself.
Just a faint and faded memory
of a girl who once was bold.
Of a bright and beaming spirit
that was strangled into silence.
What’s left over is a shadow;
a flickering candle in the wind.
A soul that wants survival
but lacks trust in her instincts.
Because society was certain
she wouldn’t know what would be best
to keep that fire burning
in the middle of her chest.
Realization hits me.
I can see through all the smoke.
Those efforts weren’t noble.
They were self-serving to invoke
a tortured lone existence,
void of passion, void of love,
to keep her flames from growing,
from embracing all the space
that was all along intended
for her to illuminate.
What’s left behind are remnants
of a life that wasn’t lived;
of a soul that’s long been dormant,
meekly waiting to be saved.
And although it still is weakened,
scared, and weary of its might,
it’s now ready to be wakened;
eager to return to life.
Like a Phoenix from the ashes,
be prepared for her to rise.
