I Once Killed a Man

I’ve always hated my reflection.

It taunted me,

Broke me,

Nearly killed me.

It chained me up

So that way

The thoughts couldn’t escape.

Each day

I would look

As the tears fell

And my heart d

                            r

                              o

                                 p

                                    p

                                       e

                                          d.

Worthless. Stupid. Lazy.

That’s what I thought

I ever would be

Ever could be

Always bound

By those things.

That reflection.

That hate.

Hate

Which turned

From tears

To knives

The blades

Dug

              deep.

Not only skin,

But in my soul.

All I wanted

Was to be

Free.

The knives

Soon turned

To pencils

Skin

Became 

Paper.

Scars

Turned to

Words.

Words 

formed

poems.

Poetry became

                      Freedom

                                  Love

                                            Light.

Suddenly,

A world of

            Dark,

Was now filled with

            Chromaticity.

Hurt

Was now

Inspiration

My reflection

Ceased

In the mirror,

And became

My words

A new-found

Joy

 S p r e a d

From each

Fingertip,

To my

Heart.

Poetry

Became my

My Liberty.

Poetry became

                                Me.