Grieving For My Past Self

—-
Stage 1: Denial.
—-

Feather after feather I swallow,
Filling the aching void in my head.
Something light and sweet to follow,
Avoid the buried feelings of dread.

Something innocent and something thin,
A safety made of imaginary thread.
Only a beautiful daydream as I lay in bed,
for nothing is worth seeing the hole within.

A giggling child, born to run
around the skirt of an evergreen tree.
My other memories are held back by knife and gun,
I am not bound by symptoms, I am free

Nothing deeper holds me hostage
as denial keeps me agnostic.
For I am too kind to suffer and too young to die,
So I will ignore my own inward cries.

They'll say:

Spread your wings and fly away, little dove.
Out of the corners of your mind, your reality
Gather the insincerity of a foxglove,
and hide under the shade of your apathy.

—-
Stage 2: Anger
—-

White hot emotion blinds my eyes
My lungs, my throat, my cries
Oxygen turns to fear turns to rage,
As you scar my skin with words estranged

Your god should beg for my forgiveness,
After all you say they planned.
For all the gore they held witness,
They should drop to their knees and apologize first hand

His name is like bile on my tongue,
Born of a dinner much too sour
I was so eager to forget,
Yet somehow he still holds the power.

I'm drowning in my own disgust
Screaming until my lungs give out
You corrode my memories to rust,
and carve my internal drought.

You made me forget who I am,
My mind focused only on your pleasure.
You've tried to brainwash me according to plan,
Maybe you should have done it better.

I'm angry at her excuses,
His failure and your abuses,
But now I curse your ugly name,
and I hope to God you do the same.

For when we kill our gods before us,
Their homes of light and dark will burn.
For an afterlife made from sins unjust,
Are just cages made to imprison us.

—-
Stage 3: Bargaining
—-

Ears flattened, pupils wide
My fingers shake and creak and cry
I fantasize about a change in tide,
and I tickle my brain with hows and whys

I pull at strings long foregone,
Weaving a web for comfort's sake.
I beg and beg for a new dawn,
Anything to soothe the ache.

I poke at fears I've had since thirteen,
Lamentations now admitted.
While I scrub at skin never clean,
And pray someday I'll be acquitted.

Because denial cages the heart,
and anger burns ones throat.
But bargaining is confirmation,
and exposes candor like hives to smoke.

—-
Stage 4: Depression.
—-

Rats crawl along the streets of my mind,
Gnashing teeth and boggling eyes.
Black shadows and dirt combine,
perpetuating normality in a beautiful guise.

Never have I appreciated the rodent,
of disease and grime and fear.
But now I treasure the moment,
when the pitter-patter of paws grows near.

They swarm my corpse and follow trail,
Covering tracks with scurrying wails.

Spectators of reality hold their disapproval,
as they eye arms lined with gauze.
their gentle whispers offer removal,
but I've come accustomed to their claws.

I fear not plague or extinction,
and I'm immune to infection and fear.
My home is with pests and crimson,
and it's long resistant to tears.

so bury me in honey and milk,
that way the rats will burn with me in hell.

—-
Stage 5: Acceptance.
—-

I've swallowed hysteria like a mob,
I've picked my teeth with broken bones.
I've bartered with rage like it's my job
I've washed my body with unknowns

I've cuddled with monsters and kissed horrors goodnight,
and yet here I am, oh so alive.

I've battled with my mind and thoughts,
I've cracked and broken my brain,
I've sobbed over fears of gunshots,
and yet here I remain.

I can accept who I am and what happened,
While relearning what I've been taught.
And while I rebuild actualities imagined,
I know I won't be left to rot.

I am a beautiful puzzle,
of pieces yet unfinished.
I am a machine of heart and muscle,
something not worthy of being diminished.

I am not to blame for my past,
as I regain control of my present.
Because I can smile at last,
knowing I can let go of torment.

I am held in the universes palm,
Crafted by delicate carpenters
I have claimed my diversity and calm,
and my worth was never a question.

I am bound, but not caged
I am hurt, but not broken
I am hesitant, but not afraid
And one day, I'll walk free

and that day,
I'll never need to fear again.