Descending from chaos
Is the obscurity
Which no one knows how to view.
Because you’re lifted high enough to fall
Into the broken bones,
Of that which once would catch you.
And you remember what it’s like
To be free.
But you don’t feel.
Because feeling hurts.
It takes too much of a part of you,
And drags across your skin
The marks of those who didn’t believe.
Because remembering is like escaping a burning building
To be faced by flames outside.
Because being distorted became the world you knew,
And the right way was wrong,
And everything you wanted to see
You were deafened by the sound
Of your own defeat.
And your legs were too frail to keep you
Above the ground
That wanted to swallow you whole.
But you remembered anyway.
Because feeling your broken reflection behind you was enough to push you forward.
Enough to bring you a world,
That held you in the palm of its hand,
Like a flower picked from the earth,
On the day the sun burned.
And it reminded you,
Of what beauty truly was.