It took a village,
to break my walls down.
Not to raise me,
But to break me.
Depression isn’t the make up i wear.
Its not the clothes too tightly fitting.
It started small,
the not fitting in.
It didn’t mean much then.
Until at 17 I was starving my body, acting like my mind needed to be less defined.
In cause people felt intimidated by my opinions.
I gave myself to every boy who didn’t deserve me.
Thinking I was the one unworthy.
At 19 I threw my final straws away.
I’d been beaten raped and outcast.
A seedling lost in a stream.
It washed down river for a long time.
Only resting on stones.
Hard to tumble over but it got over them all.
Until finally at 29.
The seedly sprouted.
Hope, is all we have.
Fear is all that holds us back.
Why fit into a box of a world we can’t stand.
Why demand attention of people not worth the affection.
Why be scared of what they might find?
Under our blackened hearts,
scars healed, and our shadowed minds.
We are undefined.
We are heros.
At least the ones of our time.