I live in darkness — not a physical place,
Devoid of light — but a darkness in my
soul… a life without light– little meaning
and even less joy.
Nothing is my own — nothing is private,
nothing is secret — fingers, not mine
touch everything — take everything…
chaos — confusion — pain.
Decades this has been my world — no contact
except to be chained — led everywhere
Not even an illusion of freedom is allowed
in a world of shit I do my best to survive…
But sometimes — sometimes
The darkness — I can’t keep it in sometimes.
It screams to be let out– screams only
I can hear — they tear at the very fabric of
my psyche… bend my mind to embrace the
darkness– has it become what is best in me?
I bleed — my sanity runs like blood from a
wound. A face I hardly recognize looks back
at me from a piece of polished steel — a face
Distrusted and bent — is it truly mine? I
feel distorted and bent…
It can be difficult to tell physical from mental
pain… it all runs together somehow… I
wonder if it matters — truly — some hurt
themselves just to feel… what? I can only
imagine. I haven’t made to their level… yet.
Someone far more wise than I said: one
should learn to love fate– amore fati–
to have nothing other than the the way it is.
Not only to bear what is necessary to bear,
But to learn to love it.
My fate– darkness– it is illegal to keep
animals in a zoo as I am kept… it is deemed
inhumane — am I less than an animal? A
beast to be locked away and feared… is
To love fate I must love all it has done
to me– love the darkness — love the anger,
love the beast…
I must baptize these as
the best in me — will the sacrament be
blood? Or my sanity?