To each Body Part, I am sorry: An open letter of apology to myself

Inspired by Sabrina Behaim's beautiful poem "Explaining my depression to my mother: A conversation.

Heart, 

You are the last one to be overtaken from the putrid darkness 

It hasn't slithered into you to taint your rich, vibrant colour.  

Somedays it feels like it might've but I know it hasn't 

If it had I wouldn't be here today.  

 

Heart says: If you work on everything else, I will remain here for you. 

 

Thank you old friend. 

 

Lungs,  

One of the weakest parts about myself 

At the whisper of the corruptness, you willingly gave yourself to its mercy. 

Mechanically you pump the festering air of a dying breath 

Now it hurts to just breathe 

 

Lungs say: I didn't recognize that I was aiding in slowly killing you 

 

Every day I spent with razors in every breath 

 

Stomach,  

You were the first I stopped caring about 

The nourishment you need to survive, I cut all ties with. 

What little I allowed to pass to you, shortly came back up as if revolted by meeting you.  

I took from you out of revenge. 

 

Stomach says: You starve not only me 

 

I know 

 

Hands,  

We have never worked well together until a pen was placed in between your fingers. 

To have words flow, it was like the last piece of a puzzle that was 15 years in the making 

But the trembles that were uncontrollable robbed you of one piece of said puzzle.  

No longer could words be legible when splayed out on paper.  

Because you are now the person at thanksgiving that dropped the turkey before it reached the table. 

The day that happened, I gave up. 

 

Hands say: My nails bleed in search of purpose 

 

All I can do is watch the blood stream down in streaks 

 

Brain, 

I should be absolutely furious with you 

You left me to rot, without even a goodbye. 

I should be roiling with anger at you 

But I have been angry for so long, and I turned it against myself.  

Anger is heat, and heat turns things sour.  

I soured my own brain against myself with nowhere to be pure. 

So brain, I am not angry with you. 

Please forgive me, because I have a hard time forgiving myself 

Please forgive me 

Please 

 

Brain says: I will do it all over again 

 

I know and I am not scared. And I think that is part of the problem.