It is not a secret that healing is not linear.
It is, actually, a bunch of scattered dots.
Upon connecting them I should see meaning.
But the picture is still not clear at all.
All I see are reasons proving that I was never enough.
All the things I learned to forsake because I always got a "no".
All those things seem easy, not a big ask anymore.
I guess the problem was just that I didn't deserve love.
At least that is what I was brought to believe,
Through the silence of my unanswered questions.
It'll take a while to unpack the weight of all these years,
The jokes at my expense, and the hurtful comparisons.
Sometimes you feel fine in your heart, and devastated the next.
At times you smile, and then you cry at a corner café.
It has become commonplace, randomly complaining to your friends,
And finally learning to disassociate for self-defense.
My fragile ego keeps being reminded to tread lightly,
Since, from this war, I did not emerge victorious.
Even in the clearest skies, rain is still likely.
I should remember that, if I'm to be a humble warrior.
Underestimating the passage of time would be unfair.
Some scars are still visible, but at least, they no longer bleed.
For in this deadly game, I was always ill-prepared,
To deal with the aftermath of doing what was right for me.
In my highest ups I am not overburdened with intrusive thoughts.
And I don't miss the old me, because I like myself so much better now,
Even though I might look the same to the outside world.
I have grown cynical, and I guess this is healing, somehow.
Comments