Worry
Pounds like rain;
I force myself
To remember
That stormclouds
Are thick with rage
Just before they break
And calm returns to the earth
As the storm recedes,
As it will in me

friends
those with whom we shared our stories
it’s time to farewell
i’m sorry

I’ve decided to seek the truth
So, I must stop the storytelling
We shared that amazing youth
That gave birth to my rebellion
Taught me how to be alright with being wrong
Showed me the ways, which I could belong

Smart goals and networks are not for me
My desire is abstract and unknown freedom
That exists nor in the city or in the family
But, surely, near those magic trees in edem
The core intention is to accumulate the vitality
Breaking through the walls of civil mentality

my final destination is the state of self
where all stuff sorted on the one shelf
where the body is a temple
spirit is a whole
nature is the teacher
and words are under control
where the only currency is energy
time is absolute
where the only possession is awareness
and love is a root

so, guys, our story ends
now,
death is my only friend

Please practice the art of giving up on giving up.

it has been over two years and i am proud of my growth. my main focus this year is to finish my grieving so that i may continue my life in an efficient manner.
the process of grieving is commonly known as, but not limited to:

denial
anger
bargaining
depression
acceptance

my denial proces:
many times the easiest way to get over trauma is to repress it. i was 15 when i was ra ped. legal age of consent is 16. he was 18. i was naive, and could not imagine the man i loved doing that to me. i believed that it was an accident and neither of us knew what was right or wrong. I had assumed that because i had previously given him my body, he was able to ignore my pleads to stop this time. i blamed myself more than i blamed him, and he blamed me. i had been so infatuated with him that i had pushed away the people who cared most about me. when i told them about being ***** our bond was already so far gone that they could not feel anything more than pitty. i was terrified of losing him, so i convinced us both it was an accident. ra pe is no accident.

through denial became anger:
i became genuinely angry for the first time in my life. i was angry at him for being somebody that i had trusted and loved. angry that i had let this happen to myself. angry that i had no strength nor respect to stand up for myself. if i had told him to stop one more time he would have. i understand now that i should not have had to say no more than once. i was angry because i let myself down, but I’m more angry that i could not blame him. being angry was the easiest part of grieving. it is okay to he angry.

bargaining is a toxic healing method:
i became really good at bargaining with myself. after he was gone i had begun to understand my emotions, but i could not control them. my fear of more being taken from me fed my overcompensation. i began to give my body away, so that it could not be taken. it was an unhealthy coping mechanism. my body is not meant to be given nor taken.

depression hit hard:
i began to reflect on all of the points in my life that had lead me to this one. i became close to restarting the grieving process. i spent a long portion of the depression stage in denial. then i was angry that i had backtracked to the beginning. i had more meaningless se x that i now regret more than anything. i saw how good his life had been going and how poorly mine was. it was obvious that i needed help.

acceptance:
this entire passage was my process to acceptance. i reached out to my therapist. i made new friends. i stopped wallowing in self pity and i began to recover. i stopped begging to forget my flaws and began to forgive them.

This year
I'm trying to be kinder to myself

There's not much more
To say

another year gone
only a memory
from now on
a new chapter lies ahead of me

Another year passes.
An arbitrary collective delusion.
Another year of promises.
Words write themselves some days.
Others, require a show of force.
This spectrum grows day by day.
Business and pleasure.
Business brings consistency.
Pleasure brings creativity.
Drown in expectations or,
Suffer in idle waters.
I seek balance.
I see it on the horizon.

In 2019,
I want more.

Want more sunrises
More rolling out of bed with a purpose

More afternoons curled in a love seat

I want a garden
inside me and in my backyard

More friends
More nuzzles from dogs

More oceans

More allowance to make mistakes
After all, you were brave enough to try.

More stillness
More belly laughs
More love letters

More sway in my hips
Cool breeze on my lips

More looking in the mirror to see my smile
not the width of my thighs

More finding shapes in the clouds

More moments that leave me breathless

More life
All the painfully messy beautifully chaotic morsels
dripping from my chin

In 2019,
I want more.