Long did I linger in the collapse. I made shelter in that crater and haunted my own home. A spirit that languished in a past it could not move pass. Cursed to relive all the minutes in the many hours that made me what I am.
I took my time like it was something owed to me. I licked my wounds so compulsively, the very act of healing kept injuries from ever closing. What was one more scar among a flagellated body? I was made to believe I was my wounds. That all I suffered, was all I had to offer; thus I was valueless. Unloved, to be discarded. Someone else’s lies became my truths.
I was a ghost. Nothing I touched ever felt tangible. People slipped through my hands like water, out of my life and into memory. I didn’t know how to hold onto anything. Until I possessed myself again and brought life back into my atrophied limbs. When I lifted the burdened boulder of existence willingly up this mountain that knows no peak. Aware there may never be a period of peace. I may always be at war against this, but what greater fight is there?
Rise and rise
and rise again
in a baptism of ashes.
I forgive what there is to be forgiven, for I must travel light. I pardon those who have wronged me, for they too once were God’s children. Marked and broken themselves before the age of reason. Traumas that transcended time in chains passed unwillingly from father to son and mother to daughter. Their beginnings became our beginnings, because they failed to see their pain through to the other side where there is healing. I embraced the rusted irons I inherited and said, “This ends with me.” My hands are bound no more.
The words I used to curse myself, they were never mine. I thought myself damned and made that hell so loud I heard nothing else but my own fire for a lifetime. Until someone showed me all those lies I thought were true. How they wore my face but spoke in my father’s voice. I had to learn how to speak all over again until those voices belonged to me. Kindness was once a foreign language, now my tongue is fluent and it has tasted salvation. Ever since then, it has finally been quiet…
I open my eyes and set my sights to this moment, and only the now. I damn whatever is behind me, for it cannot touch me unless I choose to stay. The future is just a promise that has yet to become a lie. My thoughts matter not, no matter how deplorable. This breath is the only truth.
I am not whole, nor am I incomplete. I am a monument of failures, that I still stand is success. I know only that I was tested, and labored in these lessons. Allow me to show you what these unbound hands have built. The stray would have himself be as a home. Adversity introduced me to myselves. I am many things now. They are all true. Neither wholly good, nor devoid of goodness; they simply are and deserve to be. In a world that demands we see only in black and white, I dwell ever in the gray. I gave up much to see in the dark, now I see this makes me a light.
I was tried and convicted with no respite to ever discover who was coming out the other side. Living and dying a dozen different lives. Reincarnated until the wrongs were made right. Folded over and into myself in the crucible of life’s forge like steel that will never break. As a weapon, I have fought more than I have loved, now love is something I fight for. Come and find my heart has vacancy.