Therapy Bits

In the stillness of the night,

where whispers of healing thread through the air,

I confront the shadows that dance in the corners,

the remnants of trauma tucked away,

like dust in forgotten corners.

I want to climb higher,

to scale the jagged peaks of my past,

to break the hold of desperation that drips like sap,

thick and sticky,

binding me to the moments of hurt,

to the echoes of abuse,

to the flashbacks that pull me under,

drowning in their relentless tide.

Each trigger is a stone,

heavy, sinking,

but I am an abuse survivor—

not a label, but a declaration of strength,

of resilience wrapped in the trembling hands

of my inner child, yearning for laughter

unadulterated by fear.

I breathe in the ground beneath me,

steady and sure,

a reminder that I am not lost,

but simply climbing,

climbing towards the light,

where healing sings softly,

and each heartbeat echoes,

"What was broken can be whole."

I rise from the ashes,

shaking off the dust of yesterday,

invoking the power to reclaim the narrative,

to stitch the seams of my spirit,

each thread a testament to survival,

to love,

to the quiet strength wielded

against the weight of the world.

So here I am,

not free from the chains but

dancing with them,

a symphony of scars,

crafting a new song,

a harmony where healing

is the melody and hope

is the chorus,

and I—

I am learning to sing.

https://mymindmappings.com/2024/09/24/fowc-with-fandango-want/