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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2202277
a short poem about loss and recovery
This is a Truth

I remember and I’m sad all over the room.
I try to breathe and I cannot move.
I cannot feel and I cannot hear.
I’m numb with paralyzing fear.

Time passes slowly and changes the clouds.
They merge together and I thunder out loud.
The rain comes later as if it’s a flood.
I could see clearly if not for the mud.

The mud I should take and bandage my wounds.
Instead, it is taken to form a cocoon.
I may arise a new person in earliest Spring.
This is a truth, if this is a thing.

I remember and I’m a little less sad.
I feel my lungs expand; I’m a little less mad.
I feel another emotion and hear less despair.
I tingle with hope and float on the air.

Time moves more quickly with a break in the sky.
Blue or less blue and I don’t know why.
Now the tears that I cry help to cleanse my eyes.
Only hellos and no more good-byes.

The cocoon I was in allowed me to heal.
I didn’t know that I was other than me.
Now I have returned and am reborn a king.
This is a truth, if this is a thing.
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