Two Short Poems From Another Life

 

As I look back with Facebook memories I find lots of posts that are better off lost.  I also find some that could be rescued and put somewhere I can find them.  Stories, poems, discussions of mental health recovery, writings about gender and rants on several dozen themes.

For today, two poems, both from five years ago.  At the time I was taking various psychiatric drugs and they were messing me up with hallucinations and other things.  I was also under the false impression that I had BPD or EUPD and that belief led to me living according to how the diagnosis said I should be.  An important relationship was breaking down too, painfully.  It wasn't the best time of my life but in the following year I got over the breakup, tapered off the drugs, and rejected the false diagnosis so as with most very difficult things they were not forever.

First, from five years ago today.  I probably just typed this onto the phone while waiting for a bus.  I used to do a lot of that.

She ran.

Farther, faster than she had ever dreamed was possible.

To escape herself and her past she swallowed every performance enhancing drug.

She gave everything she had to racing,

Sometimes sprinting, the wind blowing back her hair

Then painfully stooping, her body conspiring against her.

Eventually, exhausted, she could run no more.

She stopped. Despair mixed with her sweat.

Looking back she noticed how beautiful the mountains had been.

Looking forward she met herself, embraced, and learned laughter.

From five years ago yesterday there's this.  Perhaps it too was typed when at a bus stop.  I wrote a very good poem once at a bus stop after watching heavy rain wash a strawberry into a drain.  If we allow creativity an open door it doesn't take much for it to escape.