Bluer

My mom’s eyes

always seemed brighter, bluer

when she was sober;

she, a woman who set herself on fire,

I never got to tell her. I’m gay.

Stubbornness, self consciousness,

does self sabotage make the addict?

Or does loneliness?

Getting out of my own way

means getting out of my head

and back into my body,

remembering it is a safe place.

I keep breaking keys-

sometimes I doubt

my ability to

move mountains.

I forget to breathe-

I want to ensure

I never go back

to how it once was;

I’ve grown so much

and still, I’m afraid

of the dark.

The more we trust

ourselves the less

we fear the unknown,

how do we begin?

How could I speak ill

of my guardian angel?

How do I stop people pleasing

the people who taught me

how to contort myself,

into a blue pill?

I’ll be okay if you don’t

understand where I’m coming

from, just know

I’m never going back.

Just know, we belong

to where we’re going.

Back to life, back to Earth.

I’m taking my own advice,

taking the other pill, the one

that doesn't remind me of

my mom’s eyes.