I am light and love
I am sickness and health
I am scars and scabs and holes
I am hollow and as soft as a feather
I am sweet and I am distant
I am ups and I am downs
I am moonlight and intense heat
I am the biggest, burning star
On this stretched out skin
With these fingertips full of life
And this voice dripping with
Insecurity
Curiosity
And the power to heal
Herself.

The scars
The disconnect
The freckles
The past
The love
The life
The hurt
The addict .

I am the official family wound doctor.
Call on me when you want to
Be validated
Feel powerful
Or have someone acknowledge
Your heart with an -
"Oh you poor thing"
Or
"That is so unfair to you!".
Sometimes I'll throw in a
"You're so strong"
Just to add a little zest.
I have the fastest stitching hands,
I can hook up an IV without you even noticing the poke of the needle.
Cant vocalize your symptoms?
No problem, Im great at riddles
And deciphering cryptic messages.
You don't want to feel like you're the only one? Thats fine too.
I will remind you of all of my darkest corners and how hollow I am, so we can suffer and be poetic in our trauma together.

Even as an adult with experience in therapy, and growing as a human, I still think back to all of the kids and teenagers you helped and feel an overwhelming urge to yell
"But what about your own children??"
And even then, I know it would do nothing.
The past never changes.
You lived an entire life through your career, saving kids from neglect.
How beautiful, for them.

There is more to me than this made up story you've written, explaining my trauma and who really was at fault.
There is more to me than this role you've created for me, as your lifelong therapist and the one who validates you and all of those feelings.
There is more to me than that little girl who spent her entire childhood taking care of your heart and making sure that rope was tied to your waist, every time you fell down that black hole you loved more than any of us.

Every 24 hours is spent cutting pieces out of myself to give to the people I care for. Creating two new humans has doubled the speed that I slice through each layer. After 6 years of pulling apart and giving away pieces of me that I can never get back, I am left with barely enough to live.
At night, I sit there and look into every crack and dark space, trying to find enough of myself to put together a collage of whatever identity I can find.

My body is not currency
That you can barter for
In return for everyday things
Like being a partner
Or friend.
My body is a gift I choose to give
When I want to feel close to you,
And words aren't explaining how
I adore you.

We can learn this together.