The Year

3,

6,

5,

The amount of days it took to reclaim myself.

To fall in love,

Discover my future,

And be true to myself.

 

This journey is larger than any mountain,

Wider than any sea,

And more powerful than any sunset.

Because its about me.

My life,

Tears,

And recollections.

 

A spring day blooms,

But I am still cold.

Waiting…

I am awoke and immersed,

Lost and forever cursed.

Cursed to be a fool,

But I accept.

This spring day shutters into summer.

I am exalted and free.

Warm and unable to be shaken.

I am me. 

Fall merges in the crisp trunk of my happiness.

Separation has evoked the mere misery I have tried to hide.

It has killed me.

I am dark cold and wretched.

Attempts to reclaim myself.

I am lost,

Surrounded by strangers with no intents,

Wandering through streets,

Looking for myself.
The joke is,

I never left.

 

Winter glides over me, and whispers

“Smile and glow.”

And so 

My heart is heated and pumped exuberantly,

I have found the literacy of my soul

The contents it will withhold,

Giving myself away,

Never looking back,

I have finished myself,

I have found my contents,

And seen myself within them.

So naive

They are, 

But I see them and who they'll be,

And therefore,

I take them,

And they take me.

3,

6,

5,

Complete. 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741