Anathema

I was once my own monster

My own fear and terror

Anathema

I buried the length of my arms in mahogany sleeves

My legs were wrapped in jeans that tore into the fresh wounds on my skin

They felt sheer

Like the red scabbing lines burned through and shone like ugly blood-sucking bugs

There was comfort in my lungs when I was finally alone; a sigh of relief

My breath filled the empty space between my walls like bacteria

I inhaled a disease and exhaled any sanity remaining in my chest

I grew sicker

I felt any peace of mind fade daily

Flickering like a failing candle

One day

It was blown out by the wind of friendships gone cold

And a body image gone sideways

Every morning, I forced together the pieces of broken skin and dry bones with nothing but a facade

It often tore and pieces crumbled and corners became bent and edges fell apart altogether

Until I shattered like a light bulb from the ceiling fan

The light goes out

The pieces scatter

I was an imminent tragedy

An inevitable travesty of a human being

Depression tore me in more than just two

It ripped apart my self-esteem

My self-image

My unique traits and incomparable personality

I became an emotionless robot in a miasmic life; everyday was a sore trial on my back

But I learned to hope for the future

To hope for a change and a new life

A chance to dig myself up from the dirt compressing me together so deep in the earth

I found strength in frailty

I found a future in cruel demise

I found a dream within a grotesque nightmare created by the torture chamber in my brain

I found confidence in weakness

I am more than a bland face in the crowd or dirty gum under a shoe

I am golden and triumphant

No such thing as last

There is more to life than drowning in angst and fear

I was once my own monster

You don't have to be afraid of yourself

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