Alchemical Unbroke

a poem to see truth and heal

Am I that broken
into an eon of mis--
placed moments stretching
far into time and no time

for mending,
there's more breaking to do,
more stories to screw,
fuck you,

I'm lost. 
Loss invades my days,
won't let me put away
the unearthed wrongs

I discover in a guided way,
lift my arms to pray
but I'm praying for deliverance
of the times I was prey.

The dreams don't still,
a vacuum of forced will;
I can't wake up
from breaking.

But broken I never was,
I'm not.
I simply forgot
to see

the we in me,
the way dead leaves
part from home tree;
it's a spiral.

Of living and dying,
healing and prying and
never once before
have I broke.

Look again,
I woke and
truth reigned and wrung;
alchemy's begun. 


This poem is from the book, Healing: Cum and Dance. 

Photo by Anne Nygård on Unsplash