Is it bad
That when I wake
I force my sleepy limbs
To be silent

I actually
Rather enjoy it?

Is it bad
That I sort of love
Knowing each sound of life
Comes from my lover

Even though he
Wasn't always mine
And his past is denying my claim?

I think it's about time
To learn how to be
More forgiving with yourself

To learn to forgive
All those mistakes
And choose to take
Lessons from them instead.

All the self-loathing
All the self-pity
All the self-containing

No.
It wasn't fair.
It isn't fair.
But...

It won't change anything
Anything at all.

You've just got to let it go
You know it's about time
It's time to carry on now.

You need to learn how
How to just be okay now.

I often find myself
Wanting to scream
And shout.

But I feared I could only

Watch.

The atrocities I so despised
From a cage within the back
Of my foggy mind.

I sometimes find myself
Being silenced

By your need
To be heard

But you see,
I have since discovered
That I too
Need to be heard

My voice helps me
Feel
And Express

My voice allows me
To be heard
And be helped.

My voice helps me
Garner the attention of others
That require my assistance.

When I was little,
Too little to fight

I didn't realise I could shout

I didn't realise I could scream

I didn't realise my words could fight

I didn't realise I did not
have to always agree.
As my elders voiced their
Impure demands.

So now finally
After 23 years of silence

I don't care if you
Or my grandmother
Or even my father

Tell me to be quiet
That I'm talking too much
That I should strive
To be seen and not heard.
Like a good little girl should.

You will hear me.

And you might even fear me,
Which I apologise for.

I honestly lack
A happy medium
Between happy and furious.
I am either content,
Or I will storm your castle.

So I will strive to
Shout
And scream,
Until my throat feels black and blue.

Because I've got a voice too

And by God,
I don't care what waves I have to make
I will be heard this time.

I'd decided about a decade ago
That if a person elected
That is choose not to

Acknowledge their actions
Nor see their faults
I will rain down my own personal
Hell.

My Way.

I was once taken advantage of
And that day
I decided several things.

1.) No.

2.) Not again.

3.) Never.

4.) Again.

It's funny.
I was born
Within a loving family

Only child
Learned to be alone.
But, there was nothing wrong.
I had a guardian dog and doting parents
Despite their unavailability.

I hit high school
First boyfriend.
He took something that I can't regain.
So, I learned to carry on.

I just wish I'd met you first.

From the age of 14
I learned to bury my hurt
To bury my anger
To bury my shrinking heart.

I just wish I'd met you first.

I hit college
Things are looking up
I'm 20 something now and my past
Is far behind me

But, wouldn't you know it
Some self-indulgent prepubesent boy
Has made me his home.

I buried it too.

I just wish I'd met you first.

I buried my indignation
I buried my rage
I buried my hatred of the human race.

I just wish I'd met you first.

But then I met you,
You were funny,
And sweet,
And you could keep up with me.

Then we got closer.
And closer.
I realised that not all men are evil pigs.
I wished I met you first.

You brought out my best,
You gave me smiles and laughter,
You taught me to be free.

But.
My freedom comes with a cost.
I should have known.
14 years of shoving my feelings and abuse,
It left me angry.

Angry enough that I could scream
Scream so loud that all who could hear me
Their ear drums would burst

So they could feel my pain
My violations
My innocence ripped away

So they could feel how I feel
I can't be silent anymore
And I know I'm prone to bouts of violence.

I do apologise,
I know it's scary.
To go from soft and patient

To deadly and searing.
With the glint of something
Sharp and metal
In my peripheral.

I know in my heart that
You're good and kind.
That you'd die before you hurt me.
So I apologise for troubling you.

But, at the same time I don't.
Hear my war-cry,
Understand I will take your blood
Before someone else takes mine.

I don't mean to pat myself
On the back
But...

I am the sort of person
To hold up a shopping trip
When I spot a small child
By themselves

Which I know is
Morally correct.
However

I am also the sort of person
To pull over the car
When I see a dog by themselves

I insist.
I carry a leash for a purpose.

I can't help it.
I wish I could.
Well...

No. I don't.
I know it would make me easier
But I can't
And at the same time, I won't.

My mother always told me
Being kind is free
And despite the fact that she might be outdated
I am evidence of that fact.

I will stop to help
Innocence
Helpless

I don't want a monetary reward
I just want them to be safe and happy.
So I will stop and watch and ponder
I will step in if I absolutely must.

I can't help it.

Well, technically I could.
I just won't.
Kindness is free.

My mother said so
And she's almost always right
In matters of the heart.

She would wish the same
From a by-stander
Near me.

I've known that
We're all going to die
At some point

I've known since I was
Maybe 7
And I was taught the life cycle of cells

Somehow it made sense
I am made of cells
If they die
Then I die

Simple.

I just hate that
My cells can't feel direct
Emotions.

I like to think
That if they could
That maybe then
They'd hold on a little longer.

They're harmless, right?

They do take many forms.
A careful smile
A small nod
A short compliment.

They're simply here
To boost your confidence.
To improve your mood.
To help you reach that goal.

That's all.
They're harmless.

I always thought it stupid
Or perhaps idiotic
To write yourself
Into your own story.

Who needs a dozen mini me's?

But look at me go.

I'd say I found my place
Amongst the thousand
Breezes which blow.

Just don't weep
At a piece of stone
Which apparently belongs to me.

I do not know if
That it is me
Which tickled your cheek
With each and every blow

I do not
If I will carry your feet
With each step toward your
Own death.

But I really don't know.
I don't know if I'll become
An autumn breeze
Or glistening diamonds in the snow.

What I do know is that
I'll be free
Most likely, anyways.

As such.
I welcome my eternity.

My father taught me
A lot of things.

In my youth,

He taught me to care for myself
Before anyone else

He taught me that I am whole
That I am worth so much more
Than a compliment from a boy
With complicated feelings.

He taught me to fight
If I had too
To strike the thigh just so
And break his nose

How did he know it would be a he?
Why didn't he tell me?

As I grew and left his wing
He taught me more
But of life

He taught me that
The hand that feeds
Should be bitten,
if it beats.

He taught me that
He wouldn't be here forever
And I cried

He taught me that
I was strong enough to take them
(and if I wasn't, my mother would bury his body.)

He taught me that
He could cry too
When he and I realised we wouldn't be able
To just go a floor and bug the other

He taught me that
Human beings are difficult
But the relationships are worth it
When you both try

As I aged and graduated
He was caught between letting me go
And letting me hold on while I could

He taught me that
My mother wanted only the best for me
Even though I couldn't see it yet

He taught me that
They were growing older

He taught me that
Patience and consistency and effencicey
Is key when you want it

He taught me that
They were proud of me

He taught me that
Depression gets the best of us
Even though I remember him calling it
A cowards way out.

He taught me that
He loved me.
He loved me more than life itself.

He taught me that
While he couldn't fight my battles for me
He would fight my demons to the death
Whether they were human or imagination.

He taught me that
While I could obviously stand alone on my own
I didn't have too
And I didnt want too.

He taught me
I still didn't know
What I'd do when he was gone.

I was once left in charge of a class of
Literally 20 2-3 year olds.

They were waking up from nap time.
A nap time they went to bed with a
Whole different teacher
Who then asked me
as a favour
To sub for another sub.

I was a dummie.
Huge dummie is more appropriate.

I was 23 years old,
0 children of my own.
A sister in law recently had a kid,
But he was like 6 months old.

I began asking each kid who they were,
Who their sleeping buddy was
And suddenly this easy thing,
It was so difficult.

They didn't know who tf I was,
I didn't know them.

So past me, bless her,
She panicked and did some quick calculations.
She choose to ask the
50 year old teacher across the hall,
For help!

That gal came in like a fecking wrecking ball
A classy one at that.

One shout of "GET UP. PACK YOUR MAT AND SIT."
and past me?
I just bowed my head and said thank you
And I ran out like my rear was on fire.

Bless past me.

Sometimes I forget.
everyone knows somebody with a story to tell
I forget I'm one of those people.
Sometimes.

It's been so long since I last ****** back at a simple touch.
But, it hasn't been long since I stepped in when another awkwardly had plans.
And he didn't accept that answer.

I went in, guns blazing,
My female dog by my side,
Her hackles raised, yet completely untrained.
She hated him.

She alerted it to me in the dark,
A low warning growl, followed by a gently herding backwards.

Away from the scary whispering man in the dark.
She doesn't like men as a rule.
Still, the interactions gravity didn't hit me until later.

Then I shook for a while
I huddled up to my dog for a long while.
She growled and straddled me when my partner came.

He backed away.
We hugged and breathed for a bit.
It took me so long to recognize my own trauma again.

She's familiar with the hurt of abandonment.
Yet, she became intimate with my fear too  
I feel rather sorry for that.

Break me
down.
Rebuild me
in your image.
Make me
your masterpiece.

Sometimes I scare myself
Because I don't hesitate
To call myself

Your wife
Your future bride
Your one and only

I don't even feel
Like questioning it
Nor am I
The least bit
Anxious about
It.

I'm not scared to claim it
And that is what
Scares me the most.