I can see my healing now,
In my words…
Before, I had grasped widely
for hold of sanity,
My mind spun,
Outlining all the abstracts
Seeing the metaphysics of everything
Until, like the universe
I exploded
In a big bang of psychosis
Then slowly
Though Not understanding the why
I began to pick up the pieces of self
Little by little
I write my way out
And back
And reflect on
What happened?
What had I become?
What was I becoming?
Was I flowering or
Decomposing
When I exploded?
Or both?
Or was this just
Another
One of many
Of my rebirths?
She of Letters 