I am free, still here, I didn’t disappear. No, I healed. Even keel, I found my fucking way. I raised up a new day and I kept trying, I kept prying in, in, in is the only way out, the only mend up the cuts, stop the bleed, supersede your pain do it in vain for the rain that falls, for the walls that held us all I overcame. Freedom gives me choice, activates my voice let it out, shout, I made it to free.
Healing is not linear. I once heard someone describe it to me as walking up a spiral staircase. I love this metaphor. Healing is akin to walking by the same pain points or triggers, again and again, but each time with a new vantage point.
Especially healing the big, messy, fucked up nervous system stuff— it takes so.much.time.
And it takes grit, y’all. This shit ain’t easy.
It’s a choice. Over and over and over again, we choose to heal.
We do not always get to control what happens to us. But we DO get to control what we do with what happens to us.
We are in charge of our own freedom.
Get out of your own way.
Love you all.
-Hunni
This is an original, unpublished poem by Hunni Bloom.
Enjoy the poem and wanna support me? Buy me a coffee!