You dance across my mind…
strong, graceful, beautiful…
and dangerous.
I inhale you…intoxicated…
breathe you in.
The scent of you pierces me
like lightening
piercing the night sky
in a violent, sensual embrace –
baring my desire…
my hunger – for all to see.
Igniting the very center of me
a flash fire, burning away the years
like dry tinder
leaving me before you
bare
quivering with evident desire
yet somehow unafraid.
She sat quietly in class
Never hearing a word-
Her mind screaming,
Racing, ravaging her thoughts…
She sat calmly, pen in hand;
Honor student….horror filled
And anguished.
Automatically, she made conversation…
She passed tests
She chatted with friends
And longed to die
To escape this pain…
She sat quietly in church
Longing for salvation
Imprisoned by religion
Preached at by her tormentors
Looking for horns
Disguised as halos.
She sat quietly at home
And smiled at the monsters
While cutting the pain
Of her soul out of her skin…
Watching the blood ooze and
Drip…with dry eyes
And emotionless face
Hiding the raging terror
In her heart.
She sat quietly in the therapist’s chair
Giving reassurances to the one
Who was supposed to help –
Praying they see
Behind her stillness
To the utter turmoil within
Not trusting anyone or anything…
Somehow comforting them
For her pain
And living with the hopelessness
That almost felt like a friend.
She stood quietly in the bathroom…
Staring at her calm face
Unwilling to meet her own gaze,
Unable to keep avoiding the horror…
The pain ravaging her from inside
And without warning-
Almost in slow motion
The avalanche began…
All the silence broke
The tears came in a torrent,
The rage, the pain…
The still, quiet girl is gone
Replaced with a woman
With a face full of anguish
Unable to sit quietly any longer –
Not willing to still her face
For the comfort of strangers
Haunted and crumbling
Shattered
Shuttering violently with each
Invasive
Intrusive
Memory.
Stumbling and falling
All along the path
To be whole.
Some days I feel like I don’t exist anymore… and in some ways I suppose I don’t. I am not the girl I was years ago… I am not the woman I was a few months ago. I am changing all the time. For the longest time I fought that tooth and nail…I thought that was a bad thing. I thought that changing meant I was losing a piece of myself ~or worse ~ all of myself. I thought I would not be me anymore. Turns out – I wasn’t. But that is ok. I began this blog to journal my healing journey. I have been runnin’ a lot lately. I have been hidin’. I have been sneakin’ around hidin’ behind syntax and proper grammar. I have been flowerin’ up my language and tryin’ to be proper. Truth is, I am so angry. I am so dang mad I could scream…and have! I have screamed, cried, prayed… I have felt lost and confused and abandoned. I have felt needy and weak. It feels like the deeper I dig the more junk I find and I feel like I will never be ‘done’. Like I will always find more junk to dig out and toss away. My current list – well, it’s loooong – but I am working on it.
I found someone in my family decided to throw away a 20 year marriage, he has just thrown it away and utterly failed his wife and son. He has been cruel and abusive and I am so disappointed in him. He hurls insults and he is so hateful. I doubt I would even recognize him anymore. Not that we are close. Those days are long over.
I am still working on my trauma therapy, having been beaten, raped, molested, abused…I just want to live, you know? To really live. I find myself tiptoeing around – literally. I find myself trying to make myself small and not to be a bother. I find myself waiting on the pain to rain down on me. It is killing me. It is killing my marriage. My husband married me, but got this docile, hiding, timid woman instead. I don’t even know who I am some days.
I am … well, not thriving… but hoping to thrive. I am tired of living on bread and water when there is steak and wine. I am ready to have my heart feast instead of hide. I want to swim in the ocean of emotion … swim, and possibly, drown. But I am ok with that. I don’t want control anymore. I want to be lost.
I’ve got that feeling again… the buzzing of angry bees in my chest. I wonder sometimes how long this struggle with anxiety will last? Will I carry this with me always? Will I ever get to the place where I can feel safe and at home in my own skin? What battle am I fighting today that I feel this way? When do I get to rest? I feel like I have been fighting one battle or another since the day I was born. I guess we all are in some form or fashion. I long for peace. I long for comfort… I long to feel. I have been numb for far too long. I guess I am finally learning where the bees come from… those angry bees that swarm in my chest and make it hard to breathe. I think they are all the emotions I have refused to let myself feel. Now to loose the bees and regain some measure of peace I am choosing to feel all the painful things that I would not (or could not) feel. I am crying and raging and curling up in a ball and allowing myself to feel small and vulnerable… I am fighting for me. I will win.
I can feel it again… that tightness in my chest…
the tears, the throat so tight I cannot swallow.
Grief fills my lungs with cries I will not utter.
I feel the pull… the desire to be “ok”
the desire to bury this pain and pretend
that I am not in agony…
I feel it again… this drowning
all-consuming tidal wave swelling
toward me… so much pain… and I stand
on the open beach… arms out-stretched…
do your worst.
Haunted by memories I grasp for you and quickly push you away.
I cannot stomach this closeness yet I desire your touch – crave it – NEED it…
Fear arises as the brush of your hand resurrects ghosts thought long exorcised…
My body trembles, haunted by the abuse that still lives in my skin and in my breast, beating like a second heart.
It is chaos here… shouts, whispers, whimpers, cries…
Locked in the asylum of my mind.
captivatingbitter 