The garden of Eden

Once upon a time, I walked through the Garden of Eden.
After an enduring storm, I finally saw the sunshine.
The lifelong battle had ended.
And I was finally at peace with myself.
Nature was actually going in my favor.
I gained such an abundance of confidence which led me to build a mirror.
This mirror, I showed to the world.
The mirror held the same reflection for so many years.
Only this time, I could finally say I was proud of the image being shown.
No matter how many stones were thrown, this mirror was unbreakable.
And then I traveled down a path.
A path I had been planning to travel down for quite some time.
A charitable foundation, I would happily become a part of.
A path which would lead me to the dream I had been waiting to fulfill for so long.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The path led me to a place we’ll call…. Hell.
And deceiving it was.
For Hell had a mask, identical to the garden.
A place where the smiles weren’t real.
In exchange for their “help,” your emotions were stored away.
A safe heaven with the most devious disguise.
A disguise that would create a whole new image in the mirror to reappear.
The image was sobbing.
The image looked helpless.
The image was youthful.
The image was a frightening reminder of what I thought I left behind.
The image was once, me.
And so, the mirror shattered into pieces.
And I was left to search for them, wherever they had landed.
Once I returned to the everyday world, I acted as if a place so gruesome was typical, rational.
Truthfully, I just couldn’t fathom how I survived all of it.
As I continued on my journey to find the ruins of the mirror, I began to think everyone was hiding them from me.
No one wanted it to be rebuilt.
The lack of rationality left me with paranoia.
Everyone was plotting against me.
Many had not seen my trust in ages.
And of course, the little sanity I had left, presented me with anxiety.
Anxiety from the memories.
Anxiety from a mystery.
Anxiety from this shift in character.
Then I realized that it was all just a brutal fall.
I could stand up again, no matter how many wounds I may have had.
But before I could continue on the mission to rebuild the mirror, a few steps needed to be taken.
I needed to swallow my pride.
I had to admit I was in need for help.
Once I did, I began to speak out.
I wrote it down.
I thought back to where the pieces could have ended up.
I was able to see everyone as human again.
I could finally say I was ready to be a friend.
All in all, I died and went to Hell.
But now I have risen from the dead.
I am still in the process of learning how to live.
I am still trying to find my voice.
I am still learning how to walk.
I still try to stand tall.
But I continue embrace every step.
I will brace my return.
A new image will be reestablished.
And once and for all, the mirror will be rebuilt.