My favorite memory of 2024 is walking out of those hospital doors.

I closed my eyes as the sun grazed my face.

Inside they called those “fresh air breaks,” and we only had one a day.

A group of us would gather in line to go hit the pavement.

45 minutes.

While the rest picked a movie to sit with and stayed in.

I had trauma to handle, but while I was there, I couldn’t stay in it.

Head down, take your meds and don’t complain when,

There’s pain.

No matter the headache or nausea, there’s nothing you’ll gain.

Do what they say if you ever wanna see home again.

Between the new medication and the poison they considered food, I still question how I survived.

The first 3 days I kept asking myself why.

It was then I finally understood that nothing could ever replace…time.

Covers over my head, knees to chin, just praying to get back to mine.

192 hours.

Finally, sunlight.

I tried to run to my loved one, but my body was still weak.

I moved cautiously during this release.

Feeling the breeze again, saying goodbye to the nurse who became my friend.

From day one she looked me in the eye and said, “You don’t belong here Mami,”

Day four, she prayed for me and explained soon I would see my family.

Day eight she told me, “I know I won’t ever see you here again.”

I peered into the car mirror and saw a spirit I didn’t recognize.

Crust built up on the side of my left eye.

Tears I didn’t wash away from the previous night.

There I was, just grateful to be back outside.

A new season with too much to believe in.

Misdiagnosis, but I’m still breathing.

That was just a mistake which would lead me into my best season.

Now I create bodies of work that help heal others.

Realizing this is what it’s about, this is what it was all for.

Summer 2024, my pain opened doors.

I started writing more and stopped stressing,

Channeling all the energy I kept suppressing,

The minor and the major life lessons.

‘Twas the beginning of me turning all my pain into blessings.

Imani T.
@heymanixoxo