Most people are near death when they have an out of body experience. So maybe it was myself fading to darkness in those moments … because I was floating above, seeing my body on the bed, lifeless.

Frozen in time as he assaulted me, staring blankly up at the ceiling. I might as well have been dead; the body did not belong to me anymore.

But then I saw a tear spilling from those vacant eyes. My spirit knew that it must return to reclaim what was mine. My destiny was calling for me to fight. Now I put out the flames of demons and bring shame out from the shadows. Now I regain my life.

You must not know
The pain I hide
So, I tuck it away
Until it burns me alive

It sears every cell
Of my weak and battered soul
Searching for a breath of air
To ignite a raging inferno

I conceal it to protect you
From a burdened and heinous fact
Past horrors are devouring me
Forcing my mind to reenact

Scenes and images I cannot fathom
Therefore, I am reluctant to share
Hoping for a bit of resilience
To save you from the crosses I bear

Scared to open these tattered wings of mine
In fear that they'll fall off
Putting on this dim halo
For all to see
Feeling nothing at all
But an icy darkness
Instead of my usual warmth
Whatever happened to
The holy angel I used to be

You took everything away from me
From my lock and key memories
That you sharpened
And continuously used against me
Down to the pure white cloak
That I use to wear so sacredly
Who knew that
Eventually
I would encounter the devil himself

This is my body
Size 12, wiggle room
Jiggly thighs, 5’2
(And a quarter. It matters)
Overgrown roots blend
Into DIY blonde,
Somewhere in between
“Well kept” and “definitely depressed”
Acne scars, decently white teeth
Scar on my brow from that time I tried
Rollerblading into the sun, I swallowed the pavement on the way down. You can still see the cracks in my teeth, just underneath my laugh lines. I always tried to stay as positive as possible. No matter what.

This is my body, it holds memories like water weight.
Destined to burst, void of drains,
Man Made pores- formed from the inside out by cries for help that never surfaced.
Porous and calloused, found out that its purpose for a year straight was simply surviving.

This is my body. Flashbacks on a marquee, survivor’s hands painted nicely, so no one ever asked me why they were so *****, and broken, and ******.

This is my body
His dead skin under my nails,
Petrified.
Proof of a fight. scars on my arms
North of my elbow: survivor’s guilt in the shape of a Star, I spent last summer wishing night after night I wasn’t alive- I was so tired from pretending.

This is my body.
Latches like a leech to anything warm.
****** dry all of my loved ones in the year I spent spiraling,
searching for solace or sanity-
even safety. Found nothing but panic.
Nervous bird in a cage.
Narrow shoulders.
Boxer’s stance.
Dancing on the front line where I should have been to fight
Using my fists never worked.  
Neither did screaming “no, no, no”
Present until that very day. And now I lay silent.
Absent like a soldier, staring into space.
Trying to make sense of the shaking.


This is my body.
I have my mother’s eyes, her mother’s brain.
Black and white, strict like law,
Cemented in place for weeks at a time,
Then Moving at the speed of light, I cannot stop or I will die.
Creaky chest upside down, my stomach clings to my ribs.
Stand still until the room stops spinning
Or until my head stops hurting
And my legs stop shaking
And you stop when I ask you to stop
“This is my body” I whisper behind your hands as you steal all autonomy
I am left with nothing


This is my body.
He took it from me,
Did not even have to try to ruin my insides,
Did not blink an eye in the year I spent unraveling in front of everyone I loved,
Pulled out every lash I had, lost my job because of panic attacks,
But I am commanding it back.
I spent the last 6 months building from the ground up.
Spent the last 12 taking up the space I did not before.
The last 3 learning that it’s okay to.
I stopped apologizing in January.
I started yelling again in February.
It took that long to think anyone would ever hear me,
No one ever had.
This year I took my body back.
This is my body. Size 12, 5’2. Wiggle room.
Sometimes it can’t breathe right and shuts down in big crowds.
But this is my body and it is big and it is loud.
It takes up space, it is strong, it is pretty.
This is my body and for absolutely none if it, am I sorry.
Not a single part.

family friends since we were small
tracing grout in linoleum floors
I watched your dad pull those tapes out
he drew his weapon you drew yores

I can't be mad I say to this day
generations cursed
my first boyfriend shook his head
"I thought I was your first?"

there was a lump in my throat
and I thought back to that game
little frog ran over by the cars
you taught me how to skip through lanes

first friend that I ever had
I still think that you knew better
simply "child's innocence"
crayon written apology letter

floral pattern sheets
I was a flower at full bloom
until you flung me on that bed
I wilted in that room

you told me sometimes that it hurts
but it'll be super quick
that I cannot say anything
people will think I'm sick

It all goes black soon after that
red stain, metal taste, a puncture
Did the right thing after the fact
though frozen like a sculpture

you went on and on again
and never really paid
those girls carried it with them
through 1st and 2nd grade

and now I am a grown up
with something in me hollow
a little froggy in my throat that I still cant seem to swallow

I told myself I'd get better
through hell or through high water
but then felt you pluck more petals
when I heard you had a daughter

Why do people worry for me,
They fear that I’ve been through so much,
With my past and my scars,
But my scars are my battle stories,
Each one tells a tale of survival,
So I wear them with pride,
The blows I took never killed me but made me stronger,
And the names they called me only served to harden my resilience,
Really there’s no reason to be concerned,
I have been through so much and yet here I stand,
Because I am a survivor,
I don’t fear the future,
Because I am a survivor,
I am not defined by my experience,
Because I have chosen to be who I am,
Despite of what I’ve been through,
I am a survivor,
Look at what I have become,
Pity my past but don’t pity me,
Because I am proud to call myself a survivor,
And I will continue to survive,
Larger and louder than the life that has tried to tame me.