In the beginning God said “we need to talk…”
He whispered to the sleeping darkness
Blindsided by the light confused as Moses was when a bush started talking
I wonder if we’re burning the same
But anyways she sat, shocked and confused
Like the disciples watching Judas kiss the cheek of Christ, condemning him to a bitter end. Not ready to accept that this harmony was about to be broken into a million shards of glass all reflecting the truth that she was now alone
And then came the earthquakes, phases of tectonic feelings and thoughts shifting around her soul. Causing frantic of moments of fear, where she started to wonder if she’ll ever find it again, or did she not give enough trying to stay stable as a foundation of barren emotions begins to rise, a new world arriving with nobody to share it with.
Now rushing water coming to capsize her already fragile frame
Being drowned in a pool of depression, trying to reach for any lifesaver just to realize that some buoys were only meant to sink. The storm came and she wasn’t sure if tomorrow would even come, contemplating suicide as she watched his snapchat story. Her hand on the blade, recording this moment because it could be her last…until the ten seconds were up and she felt the cool dew kiss her brow. Morning had come and the storm was beginning to pass, the water now calming like a mothers hand.
So much growth, mountains of growth forming out of the remnants of her former lover’s fossils, her heart finally eroded, turning into sediments for a new soils, a place where planted seeds could sprout like how she kept cool when he introduced his new girl via instagram, or how she didn’t make a rebound out of her best friend that one drunk night. Because a fertilized flower always grows better than the first.
Spring falling into seasons of struggle and success; all being done under the stars of an approaching day. When she can finally awake without being afraid. Or no longer wonder what he’s doing on a Saturday afternoon. Realizing that anxiety didn’t need to be associated with her ex anymore because time had done it’s duty.
The pain once inflicted becoming part of her peace, accepting the truth that love is never a lie, just a little late. And it would eventually grow into butterflies and piglets and chirping hummingbirds, because now that she knew love she knew everything, looking at the same world through a different set of eyes. Watching all the creatures come together, similar to how her feelings began to embrace one another as sadness sat with joy for the first time.
She awoke on the sixth, sore and weak as the transplant was finally complete. A scar sitting under her breast because the she was given was a rib to protect her heart. Her skin was hers but the inside felt new, as if her blood was surging with heavenly particles, each breath of life tasting like a first kiss. The anatomy of a break up finally reversed. Her once formaldehyde feelings and Lazarus lamentations fading away like the memories of his hands around her waist. She knew that on the Eve of this night her mind and body no longer belonged to him. And not in a rude manner where she would speak ill of him, but realizing that instead of being one they were two souls inhabiting the same garden. Because love was born within the eden they had once created.
The end of a relationship is as old as the stone tablets, but is a new testament each time. The combination of human emotions and hungry emptiness while trying to still study and work and sleep. Being made from the dust, pain and passion living in resonance instead of resilience. She was now ready, ready to walk like the cripple by the pool, ready to see like the man whose visine was spit and mud, ready to live like her father always wanted her to…but not just yet.
The genesis of a new you, is draining.
So rest now my dear, the process of creation takes seven steps.