I stopped writing almost completely when I first began treatment. It was by no choice of my own but that of my body’s unwillingness to cooperate. I couldn’t look at the computer screen without pain, I couldn’t sit upright in a chair for more than a few minutes, and I couldn’t string together coherent thoughts in my head. So, I didn’t write …with the two exceptions I post below. I found these the other day. I had completely forgotten about them until then. My memory was quickly jogged.
I remember I had barely just begun treatment, I was incredibly overwhelmed, and I just needed an outlet. I sat (sort of), hunched over in a chair, with my eyes closed. As I blindly typed at the keys on the computer, I let any and all the words that came to my mind, steeped in emotion and pain, flow out through the keyboard (at least to the best of my ability). I also remember the tears that squeezed their way out of my sealed shut eyes, the stabbing pain radiating throughout my back, and the irregular heartbeat that came from forcing my body to perform beyond its current capabilities. Still, I wrote. Out of sheer necessity, I wrote the following two poems (if that’s what you can call them). And then I didn’t write again for almost another year. I thought it was an interesting insight into who I was during that timeframe. Even though it was so recent, I already seem to have forgotten what it was like. It was filled with so much trauma and pain, that it feels like one big blur. In any case, read them if you would like. It’s kind of a lot. I apologize for the language… (Oh, and they are completely unedited – titles and all).
Taken
Slowly growing, the liquid pours out.
Starting in my heart, seeping over the sides with every beat.
Flowing, consistently, but unevenly
Leaving me to guess where first it will attack.
I have been here before.
I have felt the liquid’s coolness and how easily it can burn.
I have seen the aftermath, felt the destruction.
I have felt the weight of my body and soul sink to the ground.
I have been here before.
My heart begins to slow, beating softer, quieter
Struggling, straining, reaching out,
Jerking on the strings of my limbs and stomach,
Crying out
Leaving chaos and confusion.
You will find no peace here.
The slowly oozing liquid will make sure of it.
My fingers and toes join in the revolt.
Confusion sets in.
Fighting but not together…
or against
Just fighting
Blind rage.
I have been here before.
My mind makes itself known.
Stronger than the rest but
Defenseless against the ooze.
This is war.
No,
This is Genocide.
My limbs struggle to hold on.
I try to stand but fall,
I try to breathe in deep,
But I’m left gasping for air.
A shuddering and shaking in my soul should set in,
But I remain still,
because…
I have been here before.
Still, I cry for help,
I take up arms by any means possible
but
The liquid seeps, crawls, and oozes.
My heart aches and my head cries,
For the days my soul was at peace.
When I could decide my tomorrow,
When I had a decision left to make.
My life is ripped apart,
Torn open to the core of my being.
The knowledge of who I was, who I am, and who I will be…
Taken.
The liquid cuts like a knife straight through.
My pieces fall to the ground.
There is nothing left.
There is nowhere to go.
There is no me.
There are so many thoughts swirling around in my head.
Each like the wind…
Intangible.
What I’m left with is a hollow shell of who I once was.
Who I once wanted to be.
The frustration.
The fear.
The anger.
In pitch black nothingness,
I sit alone.
The universe surrounds me,
And I am alone.
I cannot speak the same language
As you want me to.
I feel hollow.
I feel fear
I feel shame
The pain of this is too much to bear
My soul cries out.
My body convulses with anger.
My Fucked Up Head
I want to tear my skin off
Peeling piece by piece
Leave me alone!
This is not who I wanted to be.
This is not who anyone would want to be.
This is pure hell.
It is not fair
There is a pain in my soul that I cannot show you
My heart has stopped beating.
My mind cannot rationalize what this is.
I am alone
And shattered
And alone
This is pain like I have never known
My body creaks and pops, shooting knife stabs and bullet holes
through my limbs and into my joints
There are tiny fists inside of my heart pounding their way out.
The crawling bugs under my skin never rest
They only dig deeper
The puppeteer in my brain will not let me have peace
When rest comes, the strings are pulled,
Awake.
Always awake
And Alone.
No. Breaks.
I try to run away but my legs will not move!
My knees buckle
And fall to the earth
The only embrace I will receive
I cry out for help
I believe there is help
I believe I will be healed
But there is no comfort in my waiting
Alone
Nothing feels the same
Will anything ever be the same?
Am I meant to lose everything?
Am I meant to start over?
Or not at all.
I sit in the darkness alone.
The universe surrounds me
It is all too much.
I am being pounded down.
Further and further into the earth
A hammer that never stops.
“Don’t look back. You’re not going that way.” -unknown