Toxic

A poem on healing

Photo by Damien de Gouveia on Unsplash

Moving forward
was supposed to feel like relief,
a release years in the making

I was supposed to be free

But as shadows cannot exist
without light and
peace cannot exist
without chaos —
This black mood
will not leave me

Taking it in
like the air I breathe

The residual smog of your cruelty
chokes me — burning my lungs
turning my spirit, charcoal

It’s seeped into my soul
spreading oil across the void,
sowing anguish and distrust
in its wake

Beautiful on the surface
in all its iridescence
But at its core — poison,
settling into the marrow of my bones

Scars on my heart
scream a warning —

Beware lest you fall victim
to the plague, draining empathy
destroying everything it touches