The weight of the world

Thrust upon my aching shoulders,

I fell into the pit.

Lonely days slipped away,

Held by chains of fear.

A battle cry burned,

In my belly.

The key to this cell,

This nightmare,

This life with no hope,

No purpose,

Always in my pocket.

My useless hands bound by insecurity,

My blind eyes closed tightly by the world.

Still, the fire burned

Inside my hollow chest.

The tape fell from my mouth,

I heard my voice—

A gentle whisper said,

“Rise up, child, and know your worth.”

Though I had many captors to blame,

The choice was always mine.

I went to war.

Battling demons of days long past,

And monsters of self-hatred.

The fire consumed me,

Filling me with a passion

I had never known.

The pit vanished,

And took with it my chains.

The woman in the mirror,

Now whole and beautifully scarred—

I could love her at last.

The battle cry became

A sweet victory song—

A song that shall never cease:

“I am brave,

I am strong,

And, finally, I am free.

Free to dance,

Free to love,

Free to be perfectly me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author: Renée Dubeau

Editor: Renée Picard

Image: Katia Romanova at Flickr