I bludgeoned myself into oblivion Through the gates of Domestic violence, addiction, self-erasure, ambition, burn out, chronic illness, In the obsessive quest to justify my existence A death race to prove I was enough Dear God, I don’t remember who I am anymore The northern star I’ve clung to the past 16 years, The thing that kept me sober, The thing that kept me from suicide, I don’t know if it’s Your Will anymore. Is my soul still ordained to be free? They say you don’t get what you give, you get what you tolerate. I damn near killed myself in pursuit of my reason to live. Was it really about God, Art, Revolution? A spiritual prison break? Or was I so ashamed of my nakedness, I felt I had to rise like a bat signal, vengeance for an invisible child, exploding in fireworks of a perfected tsunami behind the isolation of a fish bowl, Just to be equal? Just to be enough... My God, How long have I been lying to myself?
Author’s Note
This poem is part of a body of work I was asked to write for a local poetry zine here in Denver. Please do not mistake it as a cry for help or an invitation to cross boundaries. You are welcome to share your own experience if you relate in the comments, but please keep them to your experience. Thank you, and happy Full Moon!
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I can relate.
" Wound Wept, the ink that forms poets words."