Toward The Light

Breathing in the dust of my own silence.
The days were like rivers with no mouth; they swallowed me whole without sound.
But one morning,
The air moved differently; it touched my skin like a secret I had forgotten.
I followed it past the torn places in me,
Past the walls I built with trembling hands.
Now the sky sits open in my chest,
Light pouring through where the darkness lived.
I am not the same, but I am here,
And here feels wide and warm and alive.