home again?

TW: mentions of an eating disorder and mental health struggles

This poem is about how I met someone randomly online who I surprisingly grew very close to after going through the pandemic and cancer treatment as a high schooler, among other personal traumas. She got me to write again.

The outside used to scare me.

I hated how my skin folded and puckered,

The red that perpetually sat on my cheeks,

The loudness of my voice

And the emptiness of its creation.

I hated that others saw me,

But I begged for their gaze.

I hated every mirror

And going to bed was a ritual of endless

Sweat,

Punishments and pleas where

A perfect body was the prize.

The fabrics that squeezed or sunk over

Were too thin to be true armor.

They were a costume,

Both to appease my own self-hate

And the characters that my mind authored 

Who stared at me,

Picking apart every inch.

Each step felt like a violation,

Each breath another opportunity to

Exhale my ugly.

My mind turned into a cyclical prison, 

Spinning me in self-hate spirals until

I threw up,

But good job, 

you didn’t need the calories anyway.

My smile went under construction,

A two-dimensional cardboard sign

Hung over where it used to shine,

A rendered vision of what it would be in years to come,

A fake.

Every move was to make up for

Myself,

But every move was a mistake.

I couldn’t bear to be at school,

At home,

In my body,

Or in my mind.

I was lost,

Searching for a hint of the familiar, cozy

Fairytale forest from months past,

But all I could find were jagged trees

Draped in shadows and shame,

The soft moss replaced by shards of 

Mirrors and confidence.

The soft song of birds that used to lull me back to my childhood

Are gone,

And sharp hisses and critiques echo,

Plunging me into the icy, murky waters of

Confusion, sadness, hate, loss.

When even your mind

Is your enemy, 

Everywhere is a minefield

And nowhere is safe.

Comfort became a concept,

A far-off memory tainted by reality.

I felt like the world and my body were ready to destroy me before that became the true reality.

When isolation became imperative and I had to kill my body to survive, I was not unprepared.

I had been doing it to myself for years.

But.

I had not realized how strong and how numerous my lifelines were.

Even if my smile had hid long ago,

The smiles of others prompted it to come out of hiding.

Every breath was strained,

Sending a pang to my heart that tasted of anxiety, fear,

But with others, I gasped for breath between laughs and banter.

The only time I knew that I was real, that my emotions were human,

That my smile gave others joy and that my effort paid off,

That the world wasn’t doomed and joy wasn’t just a construct,

Was with others.

But that went away.

When I returned from hell,

Others had gone to different circles.

We all emerged burned and scarred.

No one was spared.

But I had to sit in purgatory, watching through a looking glass

As joy return to the world.

I felt as though I had drank Alice’s potion and shrunk:

The perfect spy,

Nearly invisible.

They welcomed me back when it was a full moon

and I could lay my feet on land,

But they didn’t know who I was

And neither did I.

The outside used to scare me.

How could I join others as they lived

If I had no idea what drove me,

What defined me,

What was even good about me?

My inside scared me the most.

If my brain was so lost but,

At the same time,

So sure of its wickedness,

How could I, in good conscience,

Step foot near others?

I was a walking disaster,

Burden,

Enigma that only presented poison if you solved it.

Every bit of life was taut with plump meaning,

Its importance derived from the reflection I saw in Death’s eyes.

But,

As if in a dream,

My body moved in slow motion,

Aggravatingly behind,

Embarrassingly clown-like,

Truly irrelevant.

My mind, however, was too far ahead,

And everything clashed in the dissonance of 

Defeat.

Everything ahead and afar

Was perfect.

Things I had never dreamed of,

Good things,

Awaited me,

But I was unable to picture the path that would carry me to that point.

I hated myself in a way I had never before.

I was indifferent to my appearance

Because all of my hate was directed at my mind, my heart, 

The void where those things should be,

The illusion composed of spiraling lines that,

If you looked close enough,

Was drawn with ignorance, hopelessness, pain.

I was drunk on my confusion and fear, unable to sober up

For fear of my somber reality.

Every creation, every thought, every venture, every relationship

Felt villainous,

Fake,

A betrayal,

Empty,

Evil.

The seasons turned and the sun shone brighter,

And clarity came from its rays.

I ignored the pride and worry that I feared controlled me

And made decisions, put in the effort, 

Tried to find the pockets of joy that could get me through each day. 

And I did.

Enough.

I gave myself space to breathe

But surviving had a cost.

I didn’t even realize that 

I was leaving a trail of discarded habits and joys,

Talents and hobbies and outlets.

I had lost so much that losing more was nothing,

And I was so focused on trudging forward that I couldn’t afford a glance at the trail behind.

Connections scared me.

The future scared me.

The importance of being with others scared me,

And even more fear came from how much of that I lacked.

I scared myself because my foundation had been replaced with porous sand,

Teetering and threatening to cave at any moment.

But, on a whim,

I reached out,

A string of letters adorning an introduction.

A response.

Energy matched,

Kindness and creativity and excitement radiating from simple words.

Another risk: a reply.

I was confused by how fast we clicked.

Our banter broke out of comments and replies

And became personal messages.

My bubble burst as my smile snuck out past curfew,

Slinking past the construction workers

And collapsing on the comforting grass hill of my face,

Sprawling itself underneath the sun,

Shining.

Our words passed so quickly

And it was as if we’d known each other for

Forever.

I was so glad we hadn’t.

I was so free without the 

Expectations I imposed on my interactions of the past,

My impervious masquerade inked out by fear

Dissipating with every exchange.

It was as if we were puzzle pieces, 

With matching colors and similar borders

That meant we went together to form a beautiful scene,

But our grooves and shape different enough

To be complementary,

To create space but also companionship for the other

To slide into place.

All of the things I hated about myself,

All of the things I had discarded to make it up each mountain,

All of the things I had forgotten had given me such life,

Such fulfillment,

Snuck back in.

Her kindness reminded me of what a good friend was.

Her kindness revealed that I could be vulnerable and hurt

Without being a burden or boxing up each emotion and explaining it away.

Her kindness released the joyful parts of myself that 

I hid for fear of judgment or being too much.

Her vulnerability let me heal through shared hurt.

Her vulnerability lit a lantern so that I could traverse my own haunted catacombs.

Her vulnerability left me mourning the world, for how could it do all that to someone like this?

Her humor assured my feelings of inadequacy, idiocy, impotence in society.

Her humor allowed me to laugh with my belly and cheeks, unbridled and unashamed.

Her humor acted as a bridge between my lonely island and the rest of the world.

Her pain transported me to court, revving to prosecute all of the monsters who roamed her halls.

Her pain triggered my horror at the world but also my admiration for truly good souls.

Her pain tailored my view of what hurt meant, but also what power and resilience meant, too.

Her wit encouraged me to heal, and watch, in awe, as she healed herself with beautiful flowing descriptions and heartwrenching, world-changing revelations.

Her wit expanded my sense of self and love for her, 

educating me on what it means to be flawlessly flawed, human.

Her wit excavated my own reservoirs of thought and insight, healing and invigorating me.

Her resilience angered me, for all that she had to get back up from.

Her resilience anchored me, for if she could weather storm after storm and still emerge shining, so could I.

Her resilience adorned her story, enriched her words, informed her humor, increased her beauty.

Our words and worlds flowed, and with each 

trauma shared, 

poem read, 

masterpiece composed,

joke made, 

connection discovered, 

bond forged, 

memory imparted, 

photo sent,

And laugh heard,

We grew until she was closer than I ever thought I would grow with someone,

Even as half of the world stood between us.

I thought I couldn’t do that anymore.

I had lost my interesting parts,

Forgone my good friend abilities,

Sacrificed my sense of self to survive,

Walked a road paved with pain that I thought meant no one could ever connect with.

She showed me that I could still connect,

Write,

Express,

Stand back up,

Laugh,

Feel,

And love.

I wonder if she knows how much genius sits on her tongue, in her pen.

I wonder if she knows how much comfort radiates from her.

I wonder if she knows how much I sit in awe of her strength, every day.

I wonder if she knows how much I missed my smiles, and how big they are now.

I wonder if she knows how much of myself she’s given back to me.

I wonder if she knows how spectacular she is.

I wonder if she knows how much

Of a gift

She is,

To everyone?

I wonder if she knows how much her words,

Her presence,

Her joy,

Her tears,

Her jokes,

Her pain,

Her companionship,

Her stories,

Her laugh,

Her insight,

Her reassurance,

Her excitement,

Her kindness,

Her interest,

Her dedication,

Her genius,

And her love

Has meant?

In a time of cacophony,

Chaos,

Dissonance,

Discord…

In a time of confusion

And sharp hurt,

She truly was the 

Melody 

That shone through,

Reminding us of the tune

And giving the audience chills at its

Haunting,

Comforting,

Nostalgic,

Complex,

Beautiful sound.