No, not her
Not sure how I became this girl,
The frail shell of what used to be,
The barely existing, numb, scared child,
No longer a vibrant spirit, no longer free.
There’s only a glimmer left,
Only a faint sparkle of that old girl remains,
But she’s trapped deep inside there,
Trapped under the pain.
But don’t give up on her,
That girl is ready now to fight,
To conquer the fear that’s buried inside,
To cross from darkness into light.
She hasn’t waved the white flag,
Surrender is not a word she knows,
Because she wants to conquer the world,
Just watch the places she goes.
This girl will break the ties that bind,
That hold her underneath the waves,
The swirling current of disaster,
That has held her as a slave.
She answers no more to their voices,
Ignores their command to obey,
To let the waters of doom wash over her,
And she begins to pray.
Prayers for strength and faith,
Prayers for hope, above all,
Knowing that they’ll be answered,
Ready to face this battle, walking tall.
I am currently in recovery. I recently found this poem that I wrote during my first week in the hospital. The one year anniversary of my hospital admission is approaching and I can't believe how much has changed in a year. I would hardly recognize the girl I was one year ago...I am never turning back.