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I used to be a victim

And that gave me power

The power to punish myself.

I wasn't weak

I was strong!

Too strong for my own good, perhaps

Bending to the wrong currents

Sucking myself dry, by drowning

In a familiar pool of hateful words and restless memories

I am strong still,

Like when I was one off the many forest shadows

Dancing to corvids chanting

Wasteful, waste!

Now I’m Soil, for planting,

I am strong. I am now on my own team though.

And I am not helpless

I’m helping and helped

I am not sick

I am just sometimes not feeling too well

And sometimes, those times

Are a little longer than others

And I am learning, to find myself

Amongst many faces, to hear myself

Amidst many voices

I cannot do all this as my enemy

Guilt is a guise to my demise

A solid trap

Of my own doing

A map

Of my own choosing

A plan

Of my wicked craft.

I can hold my own leash

I can slap myself

I can choose not to

Destruction is a majestic display of control

Creation is too though

Perhaps just a little less dramatic, and a lot more patient

A lot more!

When I set myself free

Other see me flying

Coming and going to a rhythm of knowing

That learning means growing

and changing...

sides...

This poem is part of a series of 25 daily word experiments I am committing to for the month of October. The motto: “Sometimes garbage, sometimes sweet, not fun everyday, but everyday anyway!” Intrigued to experience what can be created (and discovered) in the process of developing a consistent writing practice, I will be writing a poem a day until my Vocal+ subscription ends at the end of the month. Let’s gooooo!