I am from an empty stomach and empty soul,
starved days and starved nights...
controlled by a mind of lies.

I am from watching my mother walk out when I fail,
never enough...
never too frail.

I am from cold fingers and a raw throat,
nothing left to purge…
but my life and my dreams.

I am from my suffering father,
all alone watching his daughter slowly withering away,
“is this how it ends?” he whispers.

I am from being drowned by the thoughts,
searching for a way out…
getting lost in the chaos I have created.

I am from hospital beds and tangling tubes,
fuel rushing through my veins to save my crumbling body…
still refusing to believe this is the reality I am living.

I am from a long dreadful month in the same four walls,
to saying goodbyes and parting ways,
walking out with bags and balloons in hand.

I am from thinking that was it I am free,
what I didn’t know is,
that was only the beginning.