Waking up each morning
Pieces of my skin stick to my sheets
Flesh unbound, pulling away
A viscous, visceral stretch in the direction of
my movement, a line between what was and
what is
I start each day
Molting, shedding off what I used to be
Attempting to be comfortable in my own
skin as I begin
To try and determine what’s underneath
and let my petals open
To feel a sense of release
From all that I’ve surrounded myself in
Trying to grow and get out from under
What I’ve been telling myself was peace
But all along I’ve been in a war with the one
person I can no longer ignore
So I do my best to break through layers and
levels of thick fluid and blood
Painful with the hurt of having a beating,
bleeding heart, I start
With my two red-stained hands
And rip the dead, unwanted skin off me
So I can not be so down and heavy
Under the morning sun I have begun to
realize that for which I strive is to feel
completely, openly, honestly, deeply alive
To have each flower that makes up who I am
blossom and thrive
I’ll spend every day peeling away and
clawing through the barriers I’ve built up
that are in my path
Until all that’s left is pure and right
And I’ll wake in the morning whole, intact
Blooming in the light
