Relapsing

I am here.

Some days, it is enough-
That I breathe new air and taste beaming sunshine and starlight
And all the colors of this beckoning summer

Some days smell of peace and taste like rest
refreshing and renewing
And I can sit alone and not be scared of the lonesome void of silence

These days, those moments seem few and far
between the longer hours of scraping by
As much as I try, this "getting better" thing eludes me.

It seems just yesterday the therapist smiled as she shrugged
and couldn't find a reason to schedule
a next appointment-

I had actually gotten better-

My freedom was the day when I couldn't remember
the last time I felt depressed-
When I looked at the mountains and dared to climb them-

Those days were all bubbling over in simple joy and laughter,
When I didn't put on boxing gloves
for another go in the ring with apathy
Because Apathy was KOed

Those days, being alone was a sort of solace
And I was in a place where "I'm fine"
wasn't just some rehearsed line but
actual truth.


When you have no reason to live
and the depression seems unbearable,
people tell you it gets better-
they don't tell you the happily
isn't always the ever after

I was caught totally unawares
when the enemy I thought I had knocked down
attacked me while my back was turned and-

the bad dream was real and-

I got bad again-

for no other reason than no reason at all.
I miscarried the Life that I had believed myself
Incapable of conceiving
and in the midst of astonished joy
at the life I finally carried within, it just-
died.

Because depression isn't simple and
sixteen years of hurt might take another
sixteen to heal-

These days, I'm afraid to try again-
The fear lingers that I'll kill any Life that births in my Spirit,
Fear that my soul isn't viable for producing Life
like the kind they told me would come when it
got better.

These days, I'm tired.
Too tired to strap on the boxing gloves
or even go near the ring.
But slowly-
I'm training
not engaging in a fight with a foe I know will win-
but one day, I will win.
And I'll keep trying to conceive the Life I've received a little
because True Life will always be worth the risk-

Better to Live and die and fight again than to never live at all.

Because I know these walls I've built from hurt
will only deteriorate in time-
and there are people in this world brave enough
and stubborn enough
to find my cracks and slip through and force my weary soul
to keep training,
keep trying-
People who know true Life and will not rest until I know it too

These days, I say "I'm okay"
Because despite the weight of today,
I'm convinced
Life is worth fighting for,
to my last breath, if I have to.

I am here.

And when here looks more like fear and less like starlight,
I fight the lies and choose-

Life, no matter the cost.

The Playground- Part II

Hope-
Looks an awful lot like the burning heart
I wore on the playground,

On that wet, dreary day,
Following you after you had run away-

I knew right where you'd be-

So I stood under that tree
Where I had taught you to climb-
Now time and the cursed fruit it bears
Has brought us here.

It was fear, wasn't it?
The one who told you to run away with him here

Did you show you the danger he bore?
Or did you assume by his looming presence
that you had no choice?

Or did that alluring voice deceive you?
You believed, when he told you not to trust me.

So you ran with your companion and came
To this spot where I first met you.

There you are, sitting at the bottom
Of the slide you never could climb-
And I can see the questions you couldn't shake off-

The questions that brought you here-
To the beginning.

When did you forget how I spent my days singing over you,
Quieting the voices,
Drowning out your worries?

You were hurried once before
And I can see it's in your eyes again-
Hurried to throw your life away to anyone who would ask,
Because you don't think anyone,
Even me,
Can see past that mask you wear-
As a bandage more than anything-
To cover what you call disfigurement
And I call imprisonment.

It's what I've already set you free from...

Yet you let fear come and tell you differently-
The liar even had the audacity to say you weren't free
And never have been.

In an instant, that mask was reborne,
But I know the years have worn it-
And you-
Down.

Isn't that why you came to where you knew I'd find you?

Hope- that I might give chase-
So you came to this place.

Here I am.

And your heavy gaze looking up to meet mine-
Looks an awful lot like redemption.

The Playground- Part I

Apathy-
Running up a slide I went down without noticing,
Down the deep hole seeped with lies-
Deceptions I fell for,
Falling softly, the Piper seducing me,
Reducing me to carnal flesh,
Leading me here- to this place I feared I'd come
Down the Rabbit Hole my Spirit heart was never meant to go-
Slipping down this slide
To a place where I can hide
So well
No one knows I've gone missing.
Kissing my alluring Tempter while they see
Only a mask of smiles and okays

Because I've wasted these days in weary anger,
Too tired to have even desired answering that illusive question,
"What's wrong?"
It's always been easier for me to hide in the shadows with Pain,
My seductive companion,
Who hides in the playground of my confused
And plays kind

As if he is the only one who understands,
Who will stand by me.
And I fall for him.
Every time,
With every enticing rhyme of his
Drawing me closer to the edge of this slide
Until-

Here I am,
Externally fine,
But in my mind?
The term they use is backslidden.

I might say "upcrawling,"
Falling again,
Slipping every time back down because
Truthfully?
I don't know what's waiting at the top,
And so this Apathy causes me to stop halfway....

And I don't know what I want.