I understand. I've been there. I'm still there sometimes.
The hatred I felt was like a sieve, sucking me inward, breaking me apart, piece by piece, so that when I fell with a thud in my own personal hell, my scattered parts were so far gone that I could not be put back together so easily.
It consumed me. My thoughts. No longer filled with hope, but rather doubt. My vision. No longer pure but tainted with layers of red. My actions. No longer moving forward but veering off into a black hole. Falling, falling. Beyond reach. Beyond anything to grasp. Nothing to hang on to. Falling, falling. Wondering if I'd ever stop. Falling, falling. Until one day the hell that I was living in was a place of oblivion. Not even something that could prepare me for what was to come when I finally stopped falling and crashed to the ground, immersed in utter darkness. Completely alone. Wondering how I got so far down. Wondering if I could ever find my way out.
I stood on pins and needles. Trying to scamper about. Succumbing to the pricks that could not be avoided. I scratched at the walls. I looked up and could barely see the shadow of a light.
I was alone.
In time, I learned that it was me who put myself in this place. And it was me who would need to take myself out. I was alone because I had to be. Because I needed to finally trust that it was I who could make things right. I needed to finally believe that I could. I needed to understand that I was here for a reason. That I had to hit rock bottom. I had to learn my lesson. I had to stop hiding.
This place I created could no longer be my hiding place; my oxymoron: a place of utter contempt and complete comfort. Believing in myself tore down the scaly walls. Placed me on solid ground. Made it less cumbersome to climb my mountain. And the more time that passes, the more apparent my white flag becomes. The more time that passes, the more I surrender to who I am. Accepting it fully. Embracing it.
This is me.
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Thank you, Chris, for this wonderful poem that I inspired you to write. I am truly honoured.
Gone, Baby, Gone
gone
baby, gone are the days and nights i thought
i could not be me
living up to standards of
a broken society
gone
baby, gone are the ways i've
put myself through hell
you can't use me or abuse me
to that i say farewell
gone
baby, gone are the times i
let myself give in
'cause now i'm in control of me
and i'm ready to begin
