learning

hi! friendly TW here. self-harm, depression, anxiety, etc. if you don't want to read it, dearest apologies, and bonne journée!

when i first arrived at the hospital, it was midnight and
they had to do the interview process. halfway through
a light flashed off, and the counselor excused himself to do rounds.

when he handed me a pair of green scrubs
and itchy hospital socks, i knew this was a commitment
specifically one that i did not want to make, but had to

the first day there, when i had room time,
i sat on my bed and stared at my forearms.
they were my tallies, only they
couldn't be erased from the board.

strange, how i kept track with them
and yet stare at them because i do not feel
as though they are mine. and maybe they are not.
maybe, though all i tried, i lost that person.

and transformed into someone,
still not better, still destroyed,
only with healed wounds. with scars.
sounds like a corpse.
sounds like a fool.

but this body is learning
to climb apart from the ruins, stand up and say
'alive,' though their mouth may be made of dust. 'i am alive,'
it will repeat. certainly not perfection;
or beauty; or bravery;
but consistency.

the dust does not matter.
it feels like my body is afire
and perhaps it is, but i am learning
to feel the flame.

it takes a while. don't
be mad if i revert to my former ways,
because this is still trial and error.

my mind still races at times,
my body still feels as though it is shaking,
and i cannot always make eye contact with the cashier, let alone talk to them
but that's okay.
i am learning.

i feel the flame.
i am letting it burn.
i am learning.