Rebirth

Poetry 3 comments

Tried so hard to be empty

that you’re full of the loss,

tried so hard to be flawless

that you’re covered in flaws.

Yet you wear them like badges,

honor to the scout

who scouted out nothing

but a graceful way out.

Full of secrets and screams,

valleys of muddied snow,

of whispers and numbers,

the to’s and the fro’s

and the None makes you All until

you’re all that you see

and every bone in your body is deemed u n w o r t h y.

Your fingertips fire

over collarbone trenches,

World War Three etched into all of your crevices

for you are your world and you’re dying to end,

for you are This Body that craves to be fled.

There’s so much you could do

if only you weren’t you,

a soul’s just a stain if it’s bruised black and blue.

You hide and you hide til you’re glued to the spot,

digits in your brain til your digits, too, rot.

You’ve covered your tracks so that they do not see

but still, you almost wish someone’s hear your silent pleas.

But you’ll clench your eyes shut and

splay out on your back,

vertebrae crunching like

fresh bubble wrap,

curled into a ball so you’re smaller than thou

therefore greater than thou

perhaps out of the now.

For the now hurts infernally

but it’s still not enough

and you know you won’t stop

til your teeth start to rust.

Onward you’ll march

til the ground caves beneath you

and then you’ll free fall

til your core shatters through.

This is the plan, the Way It Must Be

for you found who you were when you got lost at sea.

Unless who you are isn’t cerebral battles.

Unless who you are isn’t linked chains that rattle

each time that you breathe, labored in, labored out;

it’s possible, darling, for lost to be found.

Perhaps who you are isn’t just-so-symmetric.

Perhaps who you are isn’t blunt razor edged.

Perhaps being strong doesn’t mean being frail.

Perhaps being tough doesn’t mean tooth and nail.

So stand up off the floor,

be gentle, be slow,

you’ve moved fast for so long that you’ll tremble,

but you’ll go.

Go back to the place where you first lost your mind,

sit in front of that mirror and make it a shrine.

Run your hand over the skin that it shattered and

feel the smooth edges of bones that were battered and

see how you’re healing, slow, soft, day by day,

see how the sting can slowly fade away.

Play that old song, the one that hurts just right,

fill up the tub and fall into the night.

Write til your hand cramps and laugh when it does for

it proves you are Human, not the concrete once-was.

Sit on the porch and watch God paint the sky,

sing ballads of nothings til your throat goes all dry.

Make yourself some tea with the future mixed in

and the sweet of what could be

will erase what could have been.

Color like you’re five again, hope like you’re ten,

spew all that you’ve learned out the tip of a pen.

Tuck yourself in and turn out all the lights,

know that you’re safe now;

you’ve fought the good fight.

Fill your stomach with goodness, your soul with delight

and never forget you can make your own L I G H T.

Fifteen years later, hold your baby girl close,

smell her sweet head and whisper what you know.

Tell her she’ll see out of eyes that are liars,

tell her that ears channel words made of fire.

And she’ll let it in, sure, you do hope she does.

Because sinking is the only way one can rise above.

Tell her she’ll live if she learns how to lean,

tell her she’ll thrive if she lets herself breathe.

Try so hard to be full that you’re bursting with life

try so hard to be happy til you don’t have to try.

Look yourself in the eyes, blue iris on blue,

sign a peace treaty on the purple lines you drew.

Place one hand on the glass,

bask in life born anew,

whisper to yourself,

“I’m gonna take care of you.”

Author lifebylexi

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