My assailant does not know he is an abuser
He has been taught that women are fire
That ignite at the flicker of his match
Our voices are taught to roll back into our throats
Mine has even made a home for itself there.

He tells that he is sorry
Which feels like a band aid covering a bullet wound
It just keeps the the object lodged inside
Because I cannot tell him how "sorry"
Is a scathing knife against my neck
I cannot tell him I did not sleep for weeks
How my body lunged into a manic episode
For one of only two times ever.

I am no one else's fire now
I ignite only for myself
No one will incinerate inside of me
I am a Phoenix, rising from the flame
My ashes are more beautiful than my burning body
Set me on fire, and I will show how eloquent
Heated iron can be.

My mouth is a weapon now
It is not for your pleasure
My tongue, a slinging sword
Not to be smashed against yours
I have risen from the flames
And, as Maya Angelou so powerfully proclaims
Still I rise.

My worth is not found
In thirty tablets of Tylenol Extra Strength
Chased by several shots of Everclear
Or inside someone else's body.
I used to immerse myself in this lifestyle
Until I realized I was going to waste
The feeling in my bones went missing
My desire to find that passion sank like an anchor
No search party, no Amber Alert
I was on my own
Missing an integral part of me.
I like bridges now
And I never used to.
I like flying now
I used to hate it.
But now, I look down
I don't want to plummet into the blanket of water beneath me
I don't want to hit the ground without living first.
My mind still takes me to the ruins of my past sometimes
It still holds me hostage with a gun laden with dark thoughts
But I will stay alive.
I have every reason to be dead
I have one reason to be here:
I deserve it.
Now, I drive over the George Washington Bridge
Keep my hands steady on the wheel
Sing my heart out to my favorite X Ambassadors song
Now, I sit strapped in on Delta airlines
The pilot talks about ascending
And I allow myself to rise.
He says,
"We are at fifty-thousand feet"
I smile
My spirit is now immersed in my own body
I let my tears wash over me like a monsoon
Because I am alive, darling
I do not want to jump, or fall this time
I deserve to stay soaring.

Just last week,
I started making room for the queer in me.
I've been rearranging the furniture
Redecorating the interior
All because I like women.
I have been taught to make room for things all my life
But those things have always tried to **** me
Like diets, exercise that always went a little bit too far
I need more empty space than fat
So they tell me to expand by shrinking my frame down?
Oh, and boys on the street who stitch my mouth shut
Because I have been told to create voids for the words "yes" and "sorry"
Now, the house is finally becoming mine
I am painting the walls the color I want them to be
No one is going to tell me my new living area is just a phase
I can finally hear my own voice and it is saying her name
Like a skipping CD
It can't stop
It doesn't want to
Lost somewhere between her amber eyes
And the ocean
There is an ocean between us dear
The world will try to make it permanent
But I want to close the gap
Between my body and my identity
I will make room in my life
For you.

Magazines, girlfriends, my mother
They always talk about closure
I have found that closure does not exist
Anywhere outside the labyrinth of mind

I have found that the only way
To get over my manipulative ex-boyfriend
Was to walk away without looking back
Was to learn to love myself unapologetically
And not long for anyone to do it for me

I never wanted closure after disclosing my assault
Never wanted an apology to flow
From his water-colored mouth
He was a family member
And I was a child
Cat and mouse
He made me forget that I am worth more
Than where his hands went eleven years back
And where he forced mine to go.

Closure can look like taking your clothes off
In front of a full length, 360 degree mirror
And saying
"****."
It can be thanking God for the bend in my knee
The curve of my hips
The bulge of my stomach
To thank Him for letting me live this long

After a suicide attempt
After an eating disorder
I should not be alive
But I am
Is that not closure enough?

See, closure is misleading
It is not the end of a stage in your life
But the moment you realize
You don't need anything else
To continue to live.

Where I'm from
Most kids have never heard the words
"We can't afford that."
Where I'm from
Is marked by men in business suits
Who always seem to work a little too late
Where I'm from
No love for my curves.
"Are you really going to eat that?"
My largeness makes me a target
Where I'm from
Closet bulimics
Binge drink and purge in the morning
Fakeness is the measure of success
Why do you think the popular girls all look the same anyway?
Where I'm from
They act like choosing between a salad and a burger
Is actually a ******* decision.
Where I'm from
****** problem
Know at least three people who lost the light in their eyes
Because the monster blew out the candle
Where I'm from
It might as well be snowing year round
The people are so cold and white
Where I'm from
Nearly every parent is a narcissist
Believes their child is the next Ronald Reagan
He is their idol, after all
Where I'm from
There is no "two-party system"
Republicans win every local election
Where I'm from
They value the sanctity of life
Until one of those lives is an unarmed person of color
Then their tongues become laced with haughtiness and gunpowder
Where I'm from
Makes excuses for bad cops
Welcome to Small Town, America
Where we decorate our racism with jewelry
That way, no one knows the extent of its ugliness
Where I'm from
I ask questions, get shot down
Like Trayvon's body as it lies like an arrow in the street
Why is his life worth less than mine?
Where I'm from
Thinks abortion is ******
If we care so much about babies
Why do we not care that Tamir Rice was twelve
When his last breath was forced from his collapsing lungs?
A baby.
Where I'm from
My privilege becomes a loaded gun
But I will not fire
I try to keep the safety on
Safety on
Because I know I have the potential
To act on the only way of existing
That I have been taught
Where I'm from
At least half my friends' parents were divorced
I was told lying to get ahead
Is better than speaking up
Here is my voice for those who have been silenced by oppression
Where I'm from
Has shown me you cannot outgrow your bloodline
I have betrayal in my background
This is who I was meant to be
Where I'm from
They taught me to pray
So I pray daily
That these hands with the potential to shoot
Will instead pave roads for people
Who cannot currently walk down the street
Without the fear of taking their last steps.

When your body shoots an earthquake through mine
You ask if I have daddy problems
I guess I am weaker than what you are used to
I have been the trigger on this gun
Playing Russian roulette with my own mind
Trying to keep a steady hand
But holding on so tightly
That the muscles in my wrist are plucked out
One by one, like strings on a guitar
See, you are used to *******
Pretty girls with scars carved on their chests
Not on their faces
Either way
It is wood all the same.
I don't answer your question
I merely make my body stiffer
Fearful that my own instincts
Might burn a hole in your skin
I have no safety on what I went through when I was younger
Between the bullets of my father's mistakes
And the abundant ammunition of the taste
Of my older cousin's skin
My body is now my weapon of choice
After being someone else's hostage
**** me back into your favorite position
And I will fire
Isn't it funny how my body becomes a gun again?
I work perfectly
Until the recoil knocks me to my knees
Before somebody new
I never knew shooting myself could make me numb
I always felt everything
Do I feel alive again?
I seem to keep missing my target
So I start to rethink my mission
What am I shooting for?

My friends discuss the most effective ways
To inhale the dust of broken lives
Into their brains.
When I tell them
"I tried to **** myself several years ago"
With the same substances they try to get high on
The room goes silent
The response, it's never pretty.
It is about as beautiful as the river I wanted to drown in
About as messy as the blood stained sheets
I try to bleach them clean now
Maybe if I pour bleach into my mind
The thoughts will not be there anymore
I try to pretend it isn't real
That dangling from a bridge like a young girl's earring
Doesn't still sound appealing some days
But I am learning to swim with bricks tied to each ankle
I am learning to wake up
And not fear my own reflection
Because I am still here
And the survival makes my life
Even more beautiful than it would have been
Because I am in this moment
Even in the ones I wish would, like mist, dissipate into thin air
Sometimes I wish I could dissipate into thin air
When I no longer want to be
I remember that I must
When I no longer want to be
I remember the look on his empty face
When he removed himself from the story
And it had an abrupt ending
When I no longer want to be
I remember that I am
I remember that I am
I remember that I am here
That this moment loves me
Even when I don't love myself
That this moment is more beautiful
Than the way I decorated my body in scars
That I am a mosaic of broken glass
And soon the picture
Will be one that I want to look at
Soon the picture
Will reflect the love I have for myself
Even when I want to reject it
Love, do you recognize yourself?
You survived
You are still here.