(Re)Birth (TRIGGERS!)

(Re)Birth (TRIGGERS!)

crisispoint

Registrant
(Re)Birth


A new and deadly world.
Too much light, too loud, too much.
The smell, God! Fresh air, offal, ammonia.
Fall on the cold stone floor.
Images unbidden. The badman, Mother, family.
They can't help. Not sure if they want to.
Blood on skin. Too much. Too warm.
Too cold. Color of copper on dead pale skin.
Hurts! Why? Why now? Wasn't the first time
Enough?
Enough.
Spent too long hidden.
Alive, but dead inside.
Gone through the womb again, crushing
Squeezing
Driving the breath from my lungs.
Yet arrived whole on the other side.
The other side.
More pain? More death?
Soul death. Body death.
Naked and bloody like the first time.
But more than the first time.
I chose to come through again
To be alive again.
Pain, yes, horrible pain.
Bad and worse than what has killed me.
But the choice to live was strong.
And I made that choice.
So the second birth wasn't all that bad.
Came through the crucible forged steel.
Strong as silk.


Disturbing, but based on a dream. Someone told me I relived my birth after all I've been through. Perhaps a resurection? Who can say?

Peace and love,

Scot
 
Some years ago I was trained as a breathwork facilitator. Much of what I helped people through was like rebirthing. Your poem reminded me of that.

Whether as metaphor or transformative experience, you certainly have been "reborn" coming through to the other side.

I am so happy that has happened for you.

Brett
 
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