Others get butterflies in their stomach
I have them on my arms, sometimes all over me
Others just like their looks
For me it's a special symbolism
If you look it up it says
"Transformation, hope, and rebirth"
It doesn't say
"Being clean, recovery and sobriety"
When they eat a grapefruit it's just a food
It is sour, bitter, maybe sweet
But not a symbol of mental health
For me it's childhood and happiness
Grapefruit means recovery
The smell and taste of freedom
No side effects of SSRI anymore
No deadly interaction waiting for my stupidity
You don't pay attention to how the shoes stand
You don't know what it means
Why they don't always point the same direction
Why it only sometimes works
For you it's either order or chaos
You wouldn't think it's a silent cry for help
But I have family that does
That would check on me
They don't get the rubber band
My hairtie when I have a buzz cut
You think it's to lend it to others
But I'd never give it away
You don't even notice it under all the bracelets
But I know it's there
It always has been
And only a few know the reason
Butterflies are pretty, but I rather have clear skin
For me it's special to eat grapefruit flavoured things
It's nice not to think about how to put your shoes
And I proudly haven't used that tie in over a year
☆
Sometimes small, unimportant things have a deeper meaning to you. In general I tend to connect certain objects, sounds, colors, etc. to memories of specific emotions.
So this poem isn't just about common symbols like butterflies or a hair tie (used as a skill), but also two things that are personal to me.
To simplify it, grapefruit influences the processing of many medications, including SSRI, which can lead to dangerous complications. So while I took SSRI for a year I couldn't eat grapefruit. At the same time grapefruits are something I ate a lot as a child, so they remind me of (the positive parts of my) childhood. Being able to eat them again became a symbol for inner healing.
And that's exactly what's happening, it takes much more time and effort, but I am healing.
YOU ARE READING
It does get better.
PoesíaPeople say it will get better. But to be fair, most of them never were in your place. They say you will get happy again, but how can they know? I've struggled with trauma, mental illnesses and self harm for many years. These are (mostly) poems - abo...
