after feeling disconnected for so long
my mind and body are finally
coming back to each other
- home body
contents
mind
heart
rest
awake
i’m in the darkest room of my life
maybe i walked out of the womb with it
is it possible to be born
with such a melancholy spirit
maybe it met me at the airport
slid into my passport
and remained with me
long after we landed in
a country that did not want us
maybe it was on my father’s face
when he met us in baggage claim
and i had no idea who he was
maybe the rapist left it behind
or was it that criminal i called a boyfriend
maybe he beat it into me
maybe i met the one
and lost him
maybe it was the love
of my life’s parting gift
or maybe
it was all of those things at once
- where the depression came from
why do i let my mind
get under my skin
i am so sensitive
my mind keeps running off to dark corners
and coming back with reasons for
why i am not enough
sex is a way for people to
transcend into each other
and come apart
a beautiful earthy expression
but for me
sex was my girlhood
dragged to death
he said
we were going to play
then he always locked the door
always chose the game
when i told him to stop
he said i was asking for it
but what did i know
about involuntary orgasms
and agency
and consent
at age 7. 8. 9. and 10.
i’ll be quiet when
we can say sexual assault
and they
stop screaming liar
depression is silent
you never hear it coming
and suddenly it’s
the loudest voice in your head
my mind
my body
and i
all live in one place
but it feels like we are
three completely different people
- disconnected
while everyone else
was living their life in color
depression froze me in place
nothing lasts forever
let that be the reason you stay
even this sick twisted misery
will not last
- hope
i have never known anything more
quietly loud than anxiety
if you could accept
that perfection is impossible
what would you stop obsessing over
you are lonely
but you are not alone
- there is a difference
it feels like i’m watching my life happen through a fuzzy television screen. i feel far away from this world. almost foreign in this body. as if every happy memory has been wiped clean from the bowl of my mind. i close my eyes and i can’t remember what happy feels like. my chest collapses into my stomach knowing that i have to get up in the morning and pretend i’m not fading away all over again. i want to reach out and touch things. i want to feel them touch me back. i want to live. i want the vitality of my life back.
abuse doesn’t just happen
in romantic relationships
abuse can live
in friendships too
i walked offstage
once the show was over
and prayed for the misery to
stop eating me alive
i was sick
and pretending not to be sick
at least performing kept me moving
coming home to an
empty apartment was worse
without work i had nothing to look forward to
i’d sink into the depression for months
half passed out from the grief
eyes open
mind lost in another dimension
write the book they said
get back on the road again
what’s taking you so long
- empty
i want to live
i’m just afraid
i won’t measure up to the
idea people have of me in their heads
i’m afraid of getting older
scared i’ll never write anything
worth reading again
that i’ll disappoint the people
who are counting on me
that i’ll never learn how to be happy
that i’ll be broke again one day
that my parents will die
and i’ll be alone in the end
being molested as a child has been the most confusing experience of my life. to learn sex without having any concept of it has messed me up in more ways than i’m aware of. to feel an orgasm so young. to have my life threatened. to be stretched. bruised. bit. spit on. to become a woman at the age of four. to know fear intimately. have it breathe down my neck. to be numb. stiff. silent. and own all the world’s shame at once.