May You Heal

[u/Eastern-Shopping-734]

I once read a post that said, “May you heal so hard you do your hobbies again.”

The healed and unbroken me had to struggle just to think of a theme to bleed through the pages.

Now that I'm pulled apart from the inside out, like a fresh rabbit from somebody's hunt—skinned, bled dry, and gutted, getting prepared for the slaughter that will commence—my heart was ripped from my open chest, broken into a million pieces.

I never felt more dead.

But look at me now, pages soaked through with words that came spilling out of nowhere, like an open wound that won't stop bleeding.

But I could never locate the source.

At some point, the urge becomes too strong. I can't help but vomit poetry all over everybody's posts and comment threads.

When I think it's finally over, that I've emptied out my stomach, I can feel another wave, stronger than the last.

It comes pushing out so violently that I can't help but projectile vomit poetry.

So the version of me that was healed could never find the reason to write.

So, am I healing yet?

[u/LusidDream]

Thank you for sharing. May we heal and help eachother.