There will be days when the fear of disappointment will sit so heavily on your chest it is paralyzing
He says this is okay
It feels like anything but okay
There are days when you can't deny the undeniable craving to be close to another human being, to rest your head on your shoulder and let them remind you that you are not an island
I've been here before, forced myself to believe it so many times, but still it's always a little hard to swallow
I am not an island
I am not a metaphor
I am not broken
I am not unworthy
I repeat the words over in my head like a mantra
I am not...
I am not...
There is a line in a poem by Shane Koyczan that says "For all intensive purposes you were alone in the womb, there was no one there to tell you that this is going to hurt. And it did and it does but it still remains a fond memory for your parents"
I've been thinking a lot recently about the languages I speak most fluently: music and poetry and metaphors.
I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be a poet, to be a woman, to be a grown up, to be a human being. To be in love and what it means to be a mother and I'm trying to figure out this thing God made called a person.
I often feel like I am wearing my insides on my outsides.
Because of the things I've gone through in my life, I often feel a little bit fragile, a little bit out of sorts, always slightly disoriented like I have been looking into the sun for too long. There's always that part of me that seems to need the label Handle with Care written right across the front, alongside the words fragile and breakable
Because of this I often find myself walking into sharp edges and salty things and lemons and trigger warnings
There is no one here to tell me that this is going to hurt
There are days when it feels like the entire world needs to be labeled with a trigger warning. Every moment is a memory, and my heart is a little more fragile than it is on any other given day. I can't construct a shell big enough to wrap all the way around, can't find a way to keep it from falling off
There are days when I am so busy taping and gluing my heart shaped cast that everything else feels like work. I demand too much patience, too much grace, and can get frustrated easily.
There is no one here to tell me that this is going to hurt.
There are days when it feels like my world needs a trigger warning
There are days when I wish someone was here to tell me that this will hurt more than you care to admit
That this is ok
That you are not a metaphor
You are not a poem
You are not defined by how he looks at you, or what she says about you, or disappointing either of them
You are not an island
You are not a horror movie, hate crime in recovery, bruised and bloodied victim the world forgot about
You are a human
You are beautiful