The Kiss of Life

A portion of my life
was like walking through a vast,  
never-ending shadow,
the silhouette of a stone
that burdened me,
its weight crushing my shoulders.
 
I was withdrawn,
waiting for so long
for that one click that
would reduce the wound in my mind  
to scar tissue.
 
I faded until I was a dim lightbulb,
hanging over a dusty chair
in a deserted cabin. I believed
no end to the internal pain and punishment
would bear itself to me,  
and I was ready for the end.
 
But as I was feeling my demise
draw nearer and encircle me,
choking me and denying me
the breath of air that would
clear my head and drive out the
violent red that inhabited my mind,
I had a revelation,
 
suppress,
 
I pressed the images that drove me
near insane away;
I could feel the shackles of mental
illness slowly rust and loosen,
freeing my ankles and wrists,
I strayed farther from the cruel
state of mind that had captured me in a
whirl of mistrust, mutilation and distance,
 
and I was healing;
crying tears of joy that I could feel
emotion without pain
and pain without the lust for death.
 
I was happy
a feeling that began somewhere
in my ribcage, a jittery, light
ball of energy that never stopped
but only slowed
and spread through my chest
flowed up my throat like a creek
and infiltrated my eyes,
distorting the black, arduous view
I had on the world
and changing not only my emotions
but changing me too.
 
It was like being kissed
by the light of life
once again,
 
never will I take it for granted.
 
 
NOTE: The image I used is also called The Kiss of Life. It's one of my favorite Pulitzer Prize winning photos. It's called the Kiss of Life because it shows one utility worker giving mouth-to-mouth rescucitation to a fellow worker, who was unconscious after touching a telephone wire.