The shaking in my bones has almost left.
The quaking of earth and shattering of stone had almost buried me entirely beneath dirt and rust.
In crawling back into the light of day, in washing myself clean of days gone and wounds long scarred,
I still find myself reserved and hesitant.
I’m even biting my nails tonight, just one of a few habits I’ve all but snuffed out.
Being completely honest, I am terrified of things to come—
But I am hopeful, and I haven’t felt that way, truly, for quite some time.
I feel stronger, I feel more confident, and I feel more cared for than I have in many years.
My heart still beats the same, my mind is at ease in conversation, my limbs remain soft and caressed with love—less blue and yellow than before, less ache of soul and worry of spirit than I’m used to.
I feel loved, I feel happy, and I feel appreciated.
I feel safe.
I’ve put walls between myself and all the white ghosts, red devils that’ve so easily disgraced my skin and bones and heart and mind.
I still hold the lyrics of Wooden Heart by Listener close to me:
These lies are ropes that I tie down in my stomach
But they hold this ship together tossed like leaves in this weather
And my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north
Stretched thin over my rib bones, and pray that it gets better
But it won’t, at least I don’t believe it will
But it does, and it will, and it did for me.
Life gets better and you learn and grow and adapt and reform, and you can become the person you hope to be, and you can give all the love you wish to receive.
Scars are there to show that we made it.
You’re here, I’m here, and I fucking love that for us.
The ghosts that follow us cannot pierce the glass between the realms, though they try—
I am willing to learn and grow and love again for you and I.
‘Cause I know that our church is made out of shipwrecks
From every hull these rocks have claimed
But we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change.
I no longer feel haunted when you touch me.
___________________
JK
dharmajustin 