This is the story of your anchor point

[swirlsofpurple]

This is the story where you murdered yourself.
This is the story where you made yourself anew.
This is the story of your God, your celebrity, your idol.
This is the story of your family, your mentor, your crush.
This is the story of your anchor point.

This is the story of the talisman around your neck.
Of well-worn photographs and keep sake boxes and old VHS tapes.
Of superheroes and the twig that was your wand.
This is the story of the thing you hold onto.
This is the story of the thing that keeps you holding on.

This is the story of the time your anchor isn’t quite strong enough,
Of the time it’s still enough to keep you here.
Of the red line on your wrist, bandaged.
This is the story where you ask for help.
This is the story where you begin to recover.

This is the story of a stormy sea,
And of the water-sodden ground on the other side of it.
This is the story of the time you look into the mirror,
And finally realise…
Oh, hello. This is me. I’m here. I’m home.

Comments

[alexanderscttb.livejournal.com]

This may say more about the reader than the poem read, but I was fully captivated by this and did not find much at all that dark about it, until reflecting there right at the end. I find this highly relatable. My interpretation is a feeling of being unable to escape but then possibly realizing that escaping is not what is really desired, because escapism is only a delaying of confrontation.
At least we still have mirrors, they are better than screens. A screen does not look back--

[swirlsofblue.livejournal.com]

Thank you, so glad you found it relatable and captivating :).