Some days, I’m not okay
Some loud music playing in my head
can’t seem to make it stop
find the pause, stop or break
I wake up from dreams
I can only call nightmares
of my past self
back in the block I started
The way I covered all lost
I am afraid of my past
who I used to be
Now I’m mended, stitched
hoping they do not one day tear open
Will they reveal who I really am?
Is my past my reality?
But I haven’t gone so much as far
to lose myself
a thread pulled out will bring me back
I’m still evolving, still changing, still mending
still fixing, stitching and breathing
to paint myself into the colors I dream
and one day, when I will
behind the band aid, there will be no wound
No past to hide
Because I will then be okay
Really.
Poetry by Bhavana 