Another Visit, From Myself, To Me. Poem by Kynthia Rosgeal

When I open my eyes for the first time
I want to see everything
All of it, good, bad, indifferent
because, I went for far too long with

my eyes closed. Light streams in from
an unusual direction, just over the
shoulder of my former self, me
or, at least, that which was me, a part

that I recognize, am not proud of
but still accept, but looking up
seeing him, he doesn't look sad
like I thought he would be, he smiles

now, and it isn't a front this time
I really think he genuinely means it
he is as happy as I am, happier?
and I can sleep, now

we are at peace. Finally.