Poem from the Dark Night
I wrote this poem years ago, during a period of my life where I was very lost and very unwell.
I was actively addicted, using Dilaudid and methamphetamine, and on my way to meet someone for money. I didn’t feel powerful then. I didn’t feel enlightened. I felt empty, dissociated, and disconnected from myself, even though on the surface I was trying desperately to convince the world (and myself) that I was strong.
This poem came from that place.
It wasn’t written to be pretty or performative. It was written because something in me still needed to speak, even when I didn’t know how to listen. It was survival, not art for art’s sake. A voice insisting on authenticity when my life was anything but aligned.
When I read it now, I don’t feel shame, but I don’t romanticize it either. That period of my life was dark, destructive, and painful. It cost me deeply. But it also stripped away illusions. It showed me who I wasn’t, so that one day I could remember who I am.
I’m sharing this now not because I’m proud of who I was then, but because I’m honest about the road it took to get here. Healing doesn’t erase the past, it integrates it. And sometimes the most raw versions of ourselves carry truths we weren’t ready to understand at the time.
If this resonates with you, know this:
You are not your lowest moment. You are not the choices you made while trying to survive.
And even in the darkest places, something real in you may still be speaking.
This poem is proof that it was still there in me, even when I wasn’t.
🐦🔥👑🦋❤️🔥🌹❤️🔥🦋👑🐦🔥
#poetryforthesoul #poem #darknightofthesoul #addiction #darkfeminine
Writing about my own struggles with addiction and dark moments has been both challenging and cathartic. Like the author, I found myself in places where I felt disconnected from who I really was, often trying to mask pain with substances or illusions of strength. The poem’s authenticity resonates because it mirrors the internal battle many face but few openly share. In my experience, acknowledging the darkness—whether it’s addiction, mental health challenges, or trauma—is a crucial step toward healing. This means not romanticizing the pain but accepting it as part of the journey. Just as the poem reflects, those raw moments reveal truths about who we are beneath the struggles. They allow us to strip away illusions and confront our reality honestly. One key realization I came to is that healing doesn’t erase the past; it integrates it. The painful parts become threads woven into a stronger, more self-aware identity. It’s empowering to recognize that you are not defined by your lowest moments or the survival choices made then. Instead, those moments can become reminders of resilience and the potential for growth. The poem’s mention of feeling judged or misunderstood also hits close to home. Many who walk this path encounter stigma or harsh standards from others. But embracing your own story, your own ocean, as the poem suggests, is an act of reclaiming power. It’s about creating a separate truth that honors your journey rather than conforming to others’ expectations. For anyone going through their own dark night of the soul, remember there is a voice within you still speaking—even when you feel lost. Sharing these experiences through poetry or writing can be a powerful way to process emotions and connect with others who understand. Ultimately, it’s through that honesty and vulnerability that healing begins and true self-remembering happens.
