Sincerely October

Marigold season

I wrote a lot of chapters called "my little dark age" when I was going through the worst of my PTSD and addiction, it was a painful time. This chapter welcomes in a new period of summer.

Returning home
My little dark age has come to an end, the sun is shining and I can feel its warmth like a hug.
I was lost for a while there, I was consumed by the past that aches and a chase for a high that would never come, but the sun rises so I can return home.
Welcome home, it's good to see you again.
Tell me a story about your journey through the woods, tell me about where those bruises came from, tell me all about those months you were gone, but don't forget where you rest your head, you're back home now, the cottage has missed you.
Welcome to the marigold season, you made it to summer.

Polaroid
I have been writing for much of my life, I write as a means to express what it is like to be me in this moment, what it is like to live in my body and mind.
When I put pen to paper I often wonder if tomorrow I will look back unhappily at what I have written.
I wonder if I will look at my poems with a new pair of harshly critical eyes.
I have noticed that every one of my poems has a place in my heart if it is authentic.
I do not dislike any poem that is written honestly.
I will always cherish any poem that is a photo of my life for my scrap book.

Arcana
I want to be like you one day, I want to be proud of the things I still live in shame of.
You appear to be everything I want to be, a talented poet, a survivor, a storyteller that helps others feel less alone, someone who loves freely and without hesitancy.
I wish I had the courage you do. I wish I could live as loudly as you do.
I don't know if I will ever hold as much bravery in my heart as they do but I hope I can someday.
Something about them captures a photograph of all I wish I was.
I feel a smile spread across my face everytime you share something, something about me that I could never begin to speak.
How do you do it? How are you so unafraid of being judged?
Maybe one day I will be like you are. Maybe one day I will look at all I wanted to be and realize that it is now what I am.

Sunny days
I lay on top of my picnic blanket and am overwhelmed by the beauty surrounding me.
The sky is the brightest shade of blue I've ever seen, the clouds sing to me, nature is a vibrant shade of green with blooming flowers as far as I can see.
Life is sunny, not just because I'm not hurting, but because the sun is rising on the horizon.

Willow tree
How blessed I am to have such an obsessive spirit.
I have always loved what I love with great intensity, I have always rambled about my favorite things in excess.
My passions are like rain, they nourish me like I am a great willow tree.
When the summer comes and the rain clouds are replaced by a clear blue sky I still stand tall but my leaves wither.
Autumn has come and I feel more delighted with every drop of rain.

Relief
The relief I have been searching for is finally here, I hold it in my hands.
Things are different then they were before, and I write dozens of poems in effort to find the words.
I thought the drugs and rape would kill me, I thought I was going to die and I didn't really care.
Why would I want to live? I wasn't going to pull myself through this, I knew what I had in front of me.
But it doesn't have to be like that. I was not born to get high. I was not born to be hurt like that. I can be so much more than that.
I felt so defined by my memories, habits, and imbalances, it felt like all I was, but I am sunny now.