Subconscious

Trigger warning: This post contains mild references to sexual abuse and anorexia.

Untethered self, you are unbound. Body in dark blue water, you are floating.

You are frozen, icy memory, after-image. Currents swirl debris around the ice floe that was you, and skies paint grey reflections on your surface, on your skin. When you breathe, the air tastes grey; you close your lungs, turn your face downward. This is your mind, deep deep water, lone grey dock, dead-man’s float.

Why are you lifeless under lifeless sun? You were promised new birth. You were promised sunrise. Who said that you were refuse, that you were exiled to hopeless land?

They were wrong.

Feed the hopelight in your head, feed the peace, the calm. You need not punish yourself for another’s crimes, you need not. Let go of your own throat. Those hands were not your hands. Their sins were not your sins. Your body is not the curse that brought this on you—please forgive it. And feed it. And care for it once more.

As you seek out new brain paths, you fear getting lost, but you are already lost. It’s time to be found.

By comfort.

By joy.

By rest.

You taught your inner mind you don’t deserve these things.

You do. They’re gifts; they’re for you; please take them.

Love,

Ossuary