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Flashback to five years ago. Usually, re-reading this poem would mean allowing myself to bask in melancholy. Not today. Today, I let a little bit of light in my dark corner, knowing that every win is worth celebrating.  I know enough to know that the road to recovery is journeyed by treading small steps…  but I can never be sure if I’m really there yet.

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
Mourners to and fro
Kept treading – treading – till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through –
And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum –
Kept beating – beating – till I thought
My mind was going numb –
And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space – began to toll,
As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race,
Wrecked, solitary, here –
And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down –
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing – then –

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