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Rachel Sep 2019
Imagine a canyon
Let’s say the Grand Canyon
Awe-inspiring and radiant
Valleys, peaks, and wide open spaces
A baby bird’s chirp echoes for miles.

Down below a cliff’s edge rests a small tree
On one branch lies a nest
Baby bird waits patiently
Nestled amongst woven twigs
Remnants of blue shells near
Baby homes to sister birds who have flown away.

Baby bird who remains has lost her mother
Nourishment and comfort ceases
Empty chirps reverberate through dead air
Bouncing off surrounding hard, hollow rock
The valley of despair.

A sense of abandonment is my tired shadow
Foreboding fear and gloom
Some days are filled with silliness and laughter, but most are not.
I’m an alcoholic, addict, thief, and liar.

Shame with guilt omnipresent
I am guilty, but sometimes good
A good person with guilt
Shame is the icing on the cake of guilt in my life.

There is a voice inside me
Different from the voice I express
Inner-self hibernating under outward presence of vivacious charisma.

Raw with envy for everyone around me
Friends, their families, people I pass on the street
They all seem to have it all.
I understand now it isn’t them
It’s me.

It’s not that I wanted to be someone else my whole life
I just never wanted to be me
Crawling in skin not meant to be worn by the woman who lives within.

Today I sit in this idyllic, enchanting courtyard
Whispering wind chime
Wandering waterfall
A plethora of yellow flowers popping pleasantly
My skin soaks in the sun, ray by ray.
Today I think I’m wearing my skin well
Even that sounds awkward
Something dumb I’d probably regret saying with a rush of self-consciousness
Almost three weeks in recovery and I still have no clue who I am.

I do, however, know exactly who I am not.

I’m taking the past and putting it in a box
Tied tight with a little blue bow
The box will be put to the side
Not thrown out, but kept nearby.

I have lived the life I’ve lived thus far
But this need not define me
I’m done rewinding the tape of my life
Wondering where I went wrong.

All I know is that here
In this courtyard
Inside the walls of treatment
May just be where I got it right.

— The End —