Wounded Warrior No More

I prefer when the subconscious bleeds all over the page instead of pooling beneath my sunken head. Here is a poem from a year ago when it was all I could do to get someone else’s demons out of my head…

“Not My Demons”

These are not my demons 

that stir me in the middle of the night

These are not my demons

That haunt me

when I awake – 

it’s You that torments me

with morning sweats.

waking to panic attacks

I thrash and hold

thrash and hold thrash and hold

these patterns…. 

tormented, I kick the blankets into a bundle

like a pack on a warrior’s back, 

ready and waiting for battle,

my hands clench into fists and my heart breaks 

every morn that follows the setting sun. 

You always wanted me battle ready,

but it was you who scared me more than The Fed

Cuz you didn’t care 

if I was fed by anything more nourishing

than your Bullshit.

finally, there’s oxygen in the room again

hungry for words –

you swallowed them all. 

i was silent for so long

worshiping your world

and forsaking my own

you were my master

my king

i was never innocent in your presence,

your last words during our final coital union

reverberates 

“You are not a person”

I woke up to a renewed sense of self you could never take from me.

Rising, ripening,

revealing. –

I was finding out who I was becoming – 

In the beginning, you really didn’t pay attention 

to who

I was 

Unfolding into,

me –

you didn’t see, me, or

what you were missing out on, while I followed your directives

carried out your plans

carried your weight.

I was convinced I needed you. 

you- 

convinced my bones they’d break without your leadership

but the truth I discovered

through deep reflection and connection

to sisterhood, self love, 

and natural, motherly forgiveness, 

was –

you were the one

who needed 

me.

today I am

steadily rising

again.

free from your insanity’s grip

on my reality. 

subjecting me

to the horrors of your demons,

you expected me to pay the ultimate price-

the shame you feel, projected onto my own psyche.

no longer crawling out of your abyss, 

i stand on my own two feet

empowered in knowing who I have always been.

i’m back on track

my life – interrupted by your insatiable desire to 

dominate and inflict pain and double standards

upon me –

is my own again.

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