When the winds blows, my leaves will fly. The cage door now freely unleashed is much too hard to close now. All must be protected from within. All I’ve accomplished must never again be shredded by one blow. I’ve come too far to be downtrodden by the likes of those more powerful than I. Ha!
Where is that bird that flies with the infinite claw? No, no. I will not let that funeral in my brain go flood my veins with banging, banging, banging again. I am not your muse to label for entertaining hate. I’m not your rug to trample to soothe your jealous hate.
My willful courage will not-stand down. Not this time, not ever again. My feathers of hope will not crumble. My strength is fueled by my level understanding. Not cowered by your conviction or be “chambered to be haunted”. Emily has spoken, “not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door.” Let the birds come sing a song of hope that leaves the resolute resolved.
Conflict resolution doesn’t come easy for most of us but, for someone who suffers with a mental illness its especially more difficult. The most important thing to me. The only thing for me is to have an unwavering support system. One that we can stay ahead of all the ramifications before the prejudice hits. I can attest it hits by those you least expect it. Stigma must cease and desist.
References made: Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables and Emily Dickinson’s poems, I felt a Funeral, in my Brain/ Hope is the thing with feathers/Time and Eternity