There have been too
many days I have been a walking tombstone
Days I have sunk
into my own body so far I needed to contact a search party to find my own voice
There wasn’t a search party available most days
Often, the only person searching was me
I cannot capture in one rambling the amount of times
I felt too big for my own bones, took up too much space, stepped on toes with a
personality 3x too large
I thought if I stared for long enough I would forget
The reflection would look different, and my bones
wouldn’t feel quite so heavy
The obsession devours me…my time
Most days my eyes feel like they betray me
Like they play for the other team
I do not know how to be someone who heals gently
I do not know how to take the bandaids off of my
heart
I do not know how to trust truth contrary to what I
see
And I do not know how to fight my own fearful voice-
sharing all the ways it really feels
There are pieces of me hidden under opinions I never
wanted to hear and a mirror that daily assaults my self-perception
I am figuring out what it means to let go but am
finding I’m best at holding on
I feel like I’m burying things that are still alive
to me while they are burying me
A grave is no place for a living thing
And a mirror is no place for a graveyard
