Dark and Light

The mind is powerful place, full of both the light and the dark.

Light and dark.

Dark and light.

It became both my prison, day and night.

Day and night.

Night and day.

And I only have so much to really do and to say.

Do and say.

Say and do.

My mind is cracked, and her name is the both the tape and the glue.

Tape and glue.

Glue and tape.

Her voice silences the voices that threaten to hurt and escape.

Hurt and escape.

Escape and hurt.

And it raises me up, pulls me from the gravel and the dirt.

Gravel and dirt.

Dirt and grave.

My illness and my love; both say to journey, to travel.

Journey and travel.

Travel and journey.

To no longer waste away in a hospital on a gurney.

Hospital and gurney.

Gurney and hospital.

Bringing light inside me, no longer weak and brittle.

Weak and brittle.

Brittle and weak.

No longer will my mind be so broken and meak.

Broken and meak.

Meak and broken.

For now I know, I have won and I have spoken.

Won and spoken.

Spoken and won.

And no one will ever dim down my sun.

This poem is about: 
My family


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