Spiked bumps erupt from vertebrae Plunged into darkness, curled on wet rock Lethargic from the maddening pain Piercing screams ripple through the air Bulging eyes capsuled in blackness Agonizing spasms ensue; Penetrating each vertebrae Perspiration from re-birth Infinite hours of labor Black spikes perforating flesh Projecting from each scapula A journey that can only be persevered in solitude Pain-staking self-examination Combing through each moment Archived in the dark recesses of psyche Confronting shadows A cry for redemption Metamorphosis incurs pain Molding of wings; through the endurance of hell But even hell is bound to end Prickles of hell-fire fizzle The agony subsides! Stretching limbs Like a fully formed kitten Declaring its place in a new space Puffed countenance, like a pained babe, after Crying for its mother in the eternal night Clumsily, stumbling like a nestling Burned by the brightness of day Born in a new state is not without deficit Fear-dense clouds are cleared by the light of calm and stillness Wings extend protruding to the edge of their breadth, Beating strong, power coursing through every vessel Taking flight, breaking free! The taunt of the night is followed by the flight through the light.
A poem about the darkness and inner turmoil we encounter when we face our true selves for the first time. It floods the mind first with junk we buried and never want to look at; the fear, shame, and guilt we don’t want to face. And before we meet the great light that I truly believe burns in every soul, the accumulation of junk and dirt, must first be seen, acknowledged, then cleared. This process is gruelling and painful, and in my case, it was.
I wanted to be a better person and make better choices about where I wanted my life to go. But first, I had to stare at all the reasons as to why I was weak and did not love who I was. It was agonizing but I still attempted to work on becoming someone that could truly love, honour, and respect all aspects of myself. When I went through months of pain and anguish and decided to move forward, I knew I could not go back to who I was, but I had to keep inching forward despite it being very hard and confusing. I had to be a new version of myself without knowing how to get there; trusting myself to determine which was the right path, allowing grace for fits of despair when I was utterly lost, confused, and making mistakes.
I felt like a newly birthed fawn that could not get its footing right (I don’t know how long it takes before a fawn starts to walk properly, but it felt like many years for me). But with time, as I consistently worked to be a better version of myself, I slowly became content with who I was, despite the several mistakes I was making and still continue to make, but giving myself grace to learn from them.
I wrote this poem 7 years later when I reflected on how far I had come, and little did I know that the pain and mental anguish I went through while I sat alone in my room skipping university lectures, was ultimately growing pains. I wish to travel in time to that girl seated isolated in anguish and despair and give her a hug and whisper to her, “There is light to be seen and felt at the end of this, you’re just growing wings”.
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