Change for a walking picture
I built walls, so many of them, I got trapped in my own labyrinth. No one, not even me, was allowed to go in, and nothing was allowed to come out. I stayed cemented in my silence for 13 years.
People came and took pieces of me, they called me generous. What a spectacle of irony. A woman possessed by her pain and oblivious to her screaming heart. Of course, you think she is generous when she says nothing as you walk all over her.
First came the taking, then the eviction. You threw me out of my own home, the only one I ever new. It's left abandoned, newspapers on windows are blocking the sunlight, no air, no water, no electricity. There's no one in there, just a body left to dissolve into nothingness.
Ressurection was grand. Through it all I got to keep my mind. No one will dare call me crazy anymore. Crazy for believing - maybe. Crazy for persisting - probably. But crazy for feeling - never.
Reclamation came like summer rain in a hot afternoon. I am taking myself back, yes, it will take time. But now that I've tasted the sweet syrup of autonomy and freedom I will never be the same.
Sometimes I wish to go back to who I was before, but that person does not exist. My mind must be playing tricks on me, because how can I miss something I don't even remember? But the person here today - that's me. This is the beginning of the end. I am the after picture.
A person fully aware of their pain will never cease to grow from it.