Recovery

When I was young and
I stood, starring into
the blackness, out
across the horizon.
You'd take my hands,
and whisper that the sun,
was missing the
warmth of my smile.

You would ignore,
that I could not see the
sunset, or the pier in
the distance; standing
like a beacon of humanity
in front of us. After all,
I had lost my sight.

I found myself, so disconnected.
Crying into mirrors, breaking
down, into a million pieces.
As I become, unrecognisable.

I murdered any light,
comforting myself with my
nocturnal pain.
Stuck inside my own prison,
rotting within the cells of
my mind; which faded into
darkness.

You held, onto the remainder
of myself, which was still fighting.
Laying in awe, my body ached
for comfort. I saw, through the
ajar door, my first sunset in years,
creeping onto the horizon. A blue,
yellow and violet pastel dawn arriving
with haste and the unmistakable
warmth of my spirit return.