Turning point

A milestone
Is fast approaching me
One which I almost
Did make it.

As I struggle
With my inner daemons
Who spew toxic comments
At myself
Degrading anything
I do.

I know
Its my past
Speaking inside my head
As the voices
Of those young boys
Have been incorporated
Into my inner critic.

Fuelling a dark depression
Until all hopes
Appears to be lost
To me.

Where I cut myself
Deeply with a psionic knife
Leaving no physical trace
Upon my body
Yet shreds my mind
To a thousand pieces.

Only now
Decades later
Am I finally
Finding the healing touch
To mend myself.

As my physical body
Starts to match
The feminine image
Of so long ago.

The smile you see
Is no longer
A false facade
Painted upon my face
But truly
How I feel.

Author's Note

On Wednesday, February 2nd, I turn 41. Never thought, I would reach this age of mine, for I have a long history of suicide attempts.