There is a space I vacillate within.
Close to the edge.
Provoking my imagination in the most obfuscous ways possible.
As if I am flirting with my own disaster.
Or feeding my black wolf over the white to see who will kill who eventually.
I came face to face with myself just a year and half ago.
What a strange thing to look at all you have and could easily be again.
I struggled with feelings of pride and utter sorrow.
I wanted so badly to reach out many times.
To look this woman in the eyes and affirm all that she fears is only make believe.
Healing is possible it just takes so much fucking time to see even a spark of change.
I have felt that pain that lingers in her pupils too many times.
This self projection while feeling harmful at first became like a mirror to my mind.
Many times because of my bipolar I have no idea how I am acting on the outside.
I know only the war within.
Have known……. it’s different now.
Slowly but surely.
How far I have come and yet it still lingers ever so near.
Like an old friend you can not seem to maintain a conversation with I looked at this life that was once mine and feel only the void.
A distance I used to believe was absurd.
I am grateful for the space of the abyss.
For the lessons learned and continue to encounter.
Am I willing to give up this side of me?
The dark, harmful, self seeking, absent, lost individual.
Does it serve me at all?
Today I have decided to mourn the disposition of grief.
This prison to which I have been confined.
Starting with losing family to illnesses, of all kinds, to waking up with my dead husband next to me to grieving the loss of the living.
Sometimes not even I can comprehend how I am still here.
I have been beaten.
And worse of all isolation……
Worse of fucking all that comfort of isolation.
I am done.
So beyond sick and tired of these chains that bind.
It melts off like a snow cone in the sun.
I watch as the colors of my growth melds to make a pièce de résistance contradictory to the once familiar.
Good riddance you all consuming snake.
I am free.
I am allowed to be happy.
I am more than my traumas
I have always been more than enough.
I will turn my trash into beauty.
And I am ever so loved.
Thank you universe for moments that sting and painful events that push.