Writing poetry became a surprising way for me to process the pain and wonder of recovery from codependency or as I like to say, the process of becoming myself. Lately, I haven’t felt very poetic at all. Recovery is hard work, plain and simple; most of the time, it’s one day at a freaking time. One step forward, two steps back. Keep coming back.
One wrong step; I’m falling, falling, flailing.
I land hard on the flinty surface, wind knocked out of me.
Bedrock beneath my broken body,
the lowest point…
Shaken, I survey my surroundings.
I sense a solidity, a sure foundation.
Bedrock upon which to build.
May 27, 2018