Is it selfish of me to hope it gets better than this
To look upon all the good fortune I’ve been granted and know
that I am not done receiving good things
Is it naive of me to think I know
that there is more than just this life
Presently
I am debunking the many myths of maturation
Learning
the true demands of development
the requirements of a chrysalis
In Kindergarten
It was simple
Caterpillar, cocoon, butterfly
A manageable type of magic
But now I know
of the disintegration of the body
of the melting of flesh
and the reforming of refuse into wings
Of the cracking like an egg
of the breaking out
This
is nowhere near the storied metamorphosis
No glass slippers
no three wishes
This is like holding fanciful childhood fairy tales
up to their Grimm counterparts
It’s like do I really want to fly
if this is what I have to go through to get wings
It is back breaking sacrifice
It is a masterpiece
at the expense of a soul
It is having to discard the only part of myself I have ever known
It doesn’t feel like shedding a weight
it feels like ripping off my skin, this re-birth
It feels like scraping away and discarding what has protected me for all these years
All I feel now
Is raw
When I was 5 what
I learned about was a beautiful evolution
Elegant
Effortless
But this doesn’t feel like a transformation
it feels like breaking down
like dissolving
And it’s taking all of me
not to give in to the pain of it
Is it too late to give up now?
Is it too late to trade this mutation in for my old life
It’s not euphoric anymore
It’s not just a pretty thought
It hurts
And I wish I were braver than I am
Excitedly jumping into this chalk outline
knowing it won’t be the end of it all
but There is no grandiose music playing in the background here
There are no singing birds
Not even screaming
Not even (my) screaming just silence
While the rest of the world waits to blossom I am breaking down
In kindergarten I was in awe of the butterfly
Astounded by its beauty
Completely forgot about the caterpillar
about the thing that gave its life for this
And right now I am the thing that gets forgotten
And I wonder
if I will be granted the memory of this life in the next
or if evolution will erase the days I’ve spent in this body
This body
Has been so good to me
But this body
Is not going to make it much further like this
I don't have it in me to drag myself through the dirt anymore
There aren't many options left
And rebirth requires the death of this body
This body
deserves to bloom into it’s best self
no matter how much it hurts
no matter how much it hurts
no matter how much it hurts
Is it selfish of me
To hope it gets better than this
by Diamond Mason
--
“But that's the wonderful thing about man; he never gets so discouraged or disgusted that he gives up doing it all over again, because he knows very well it is important and worth the doing.” ― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451