I heard you that night, the night I briefly cried and you held me. When I was almost asleep, you pulled me closer. I heard you say you loved me. I knew you didn’t mean for me to hear. I told you I loved you in my head and slept. I wish we were both brave enough, but we were broken.
Category: Uncategorized
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Fading Numbness
I feel time closing in around me. It’s in the way I don’t react. How I just go ‘huh, okay’ and let silence wash over me. I don’t feel the need to fight. The inability to breathe deep doesn’t make me scared any longer. The sadness isn’t the same. I feel a little less day by day. The laughter that surrounds me no longer feels distant, at the end of some long tunnel. I can look on others moving in their lives, and it doesn’t cut so deeply. The sting is so brief that I’m left wondering if it was real. The walls reemerged, but not out of fear this time. This time, they’re security features, built-in upgrades to keep something valuable inaccessible to carelessness.
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The Weight of Trauma
I’m not calculated. I have spent my life trying to access danger, to read the room and gauge potential trouble. I note exits, faces, and the people who might step in, trying to control my nervous system from triggers. Will I smell those scents, see a piece of clothing like theirs somewhere, or hear a phrase used when I was not safe? If I leave abruptly, I’m not playing a game – I am fleeing from what my body feels like I may break if I don’t get home. I use humor to keep myself shielded, a mask that I swear sometimes I fool myself. My thoughts are never able to process everything being said because I’m on high alert, trying to keep everything in my sight. I have lived through so many horrific things that I can’t be normal. It is something I will never experience. So you see, I don’t have time to play a game – I’m too busy trying to survive so I never have to experience another moment like that again.
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Fractured
My heart aches to know love as the receiver. All the wounds that reopen at an attack recover – sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. But they do recover. It’s the words that linger: ‘unclean,’ ‘tainted,’ ‘unworthy of love.’ They’re dark shadows whispering at me. When physical pain resurfaces, I hear them – reminders of the nights I survived. Each new situation that doesn’t feel as bad, I allow to take hold, because it looks different. Avoiding the same monsters, I’ve encountered new ones I wasn’t prepared for. I retreat into safety, whether it’s with my sanctuary I build alone or with a monster that I’m so numb to, I don’t even care. Is this what a lifetime of abuse looks like? At the heart of it, I’m still broken, and all I can do is hope and love. Maybe that’s why it keeps coming to break me – because I still show up as love.
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My Muse
My muse, that is what he was. The words that begged to be written. I, giving in as I Always do. Unable to do anything but honor what my soul speaks. He needed solitude and I was a storm.
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When Time Grows Short
Why is it that when your health is failing life feels heavy with things hidden in your heart?
When your heart is slow and not pumping properly you feel the ache of a love you can’t hold.
You think about how much you just want to be held by them.
That the longer you are sick the more you grieve for time with the one you love desperately.
As you feel yourself growing weaker you dream of what matters most inside your heart.
It feels like Something greater forcing you to be honest with yourself as time slips away.
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Forged in Fire by Design
The one who created me, he must have known. When he made my heart soft, yet put me through hell, he knew I would break. The world would try to kill me, but I would be rebirthed into the ashes. Each time they were sent for me, he knew what he made – a soul that would endure. He knew I needed children to make me go on, that they would be the key, even when I couldn’t understand. My heart would be crushed under others’ words, but I would adjust and grow as I burned. He knew who he made in me – an angelic phoenix who grew as I learned. The eldest daughter forged in fire.
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Catacombs of My Tortured Heart
The catacombs of my heart are covered in memories of us.
1.0 8.0 summer solstice 22Through the pain I loved, hoped, and held.
It wasn’t just you
It was me
I wasn’t alone
I know you felt it
But you didn’t want to feel.
So my heart a catacombs of you Always
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Pawns of Deception
I never knew you.
You never saw me.
Secrets we both kept.
Your disregard created a block.
Mask so many mask.
I never knew you.
You wouldn’t let me.
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A Love That Was
There is a version of you that loved me so deeply it seeped into this lifetime and now I grieve for something that doesn’t exist here.
Ink Stained Soul... 