I'm Better Now

I was young, I was naive, I was in love.

I was troubled, hurting and in pain.

I found what I sought out for and more,

But I lost it along the way.

I was living free, nice and easy until one fateful day. A day that shook me, kill me inside.

I was dying, bleeding from my soul.

I died.

Sorrow, loss, grief and remorse for what I didn't say or do.

An angel in disguise picked me up and lifted me to my new home.

A home of lies, crystal foundations within a sorry country promising only shallow tales of convenient truths.

Still naive, I went along and followed through, not knowing the outcome, but whispering the faint words in my own self conscious mind, "go on.... what can hurt.?"

I wondered by myself seeking refuge on this strange path in a strange new world wondering to myself, "where did that angel go?"

Nowhere to be found, I fell into all the traps left for me to find, bleeding and dying moreover than before.

Nobody to my rescue, nobody to care, not a soul to give a shit... I died again.

Picking myself up off the blood soaked ground once more, I limped my way up to another plane of existence. Denial.

Not knowing who I even was, I stumbled into a lifestyle of corruption of drugs, drinking and lust.

Coasting on numbly through a dark and gloomy mist of voices from my past speaking, " You are worthless ." "You are sorry ." "You are nothing at all. " "You are nothing to anyone in this world ." "You are dead ."

Running with my broken legs away from these terrifying voices from a familiar past, I ran head long into a wall of steel.

A solid red wall of pain, greed, hate and indifference... Famine.

I found myself lying lifeless, yet crying, staring up into the lights of a hospital sealing. White coats and scrubs for miles around and yet, nobody there to help me up.... Nobody, but myself.

"You have a choice ," someone in scrubs and a stethoscope said to me. "Fight it and live to shout it out, or simply go to sleep and parish without ever being known ."

Waking up drenched in tears and chilling cold, I am wrapped in an unfamiliar gown in a sterile bed and IVs in my veins.

Fear... cold cold fear.

Will I ever love again? For real this time? Will I ever live again? Will I ever twirl again? Will I ever dance again? Will I ever be alive?

I pushed myself through the seemingly endless halls of death and bitter cold, focusing on the light ahead.

In the light, my life. My dreams. My Talents. My passions. My Love.

I can do this.... I have to.

I fought it for months and for what felt like forever until I finally heard the words, "You are not terminally ill any longer ."

Unusual tears of joy. Strange feelings of accomplishment.

"Further, push further, and once you've gotten there, go further ." a strange voice came to me in a dream.

I must go on. I told myself.

Finding new ways to better myself in the home, in the office and in the soul, I learned to be independent and live a solitary life on my own.

Moving from one place to another from season to season, always in a different place. I had to break out.

Suddenly, I am beginning to be noticed in ways I never thought possible.

Twirling for respect, writing for my calling and teaching for the betterment of tomorrow.

Still, solitude.

"Work on you ." another strange voice said to me, and this time I knew why and on what.

I find meditation and inner peace. I find love for who I am, where I am going and where I've been.

I'm finding myself slowly, yet surely. I love who I am.

In a new city yet again and not knowing a soul worth knowing, but never regretting a single part of my past, I move on still.

I find more who offer love, a home and more meaningless, empty words of empty promises and I fall for them still.... why?

Am I dense or just stupid?

No, I am just used to being weak and offering my life to be spent with those who are not willing to do the same for me and I am hurt once more.

No more!

I am finished with being hurt, I am finished with being dumped on, I am so finished with bleeding when someone cuts me to the bone with not only their actions, but their words. NO... HELL NO!

I stand up and I stand tall. I am not what I am called. I am not what I am thought to be by others who do not know any better than to stoop to the stereotypical cliche. I am far better than that!

I am strong. I am a survivor! I am one who has bled, who died, who has been hurt SO DAMNED OFTEN..... but, no more.

I am more than the color of my skin, I am a being of survival and a warrior of an endless fight against a famine called indifference and hate.

I am more than just my sex, I am a fighter and an independent believer of my own damned laws.

I am more than just the simple thoughts of those who rate and rape me, I am a force of nature to be survived if crossed!

I am more than just a diagnosis, I am a warrior and a winner of an endless uphill battle!

I am more than just someone who was killed, I am a spirit of truth and soul.

I am more than a man who is from a certain country, I am a noble pillar of independence.

I am more than just the words you call me, I am better than the words you do not have to call yourself.

I am more than one who was once hurt, bleeding, dying on the floor, I am the blood that spilled from out my body. Take a good look and pay attention. You cannot kill what makes the blood flow. The very blood that flows within you. Same color, same substance, same essence. HUMANITY.

I awaken from the nightmare of my past experiences, for which I am eternally grateful, and I look to my right at the sleeping beauty by my side. I am reminded that I am loved, admired, held dear to, and respected. I am engaged to be married to a pure and beautiful soul who loves me for who I am, what I am and.... most surprisingly, as I am now... damaged, yet refurbished.

I am independent at long last, successful and happy with family and loved ones and that makes me remembered, a triumphant success and most of all, loved.

I am better now than I was before. I am better because I have overcome.