January 18, 2016
He handed me too many shots until
my mind became a foggy disaster and
my body became as slippery as the blizzard roads
outside.
I rolled down my guard just enough for him
to stick his hands through, my walls teetered with drunken
oblivion, he took that as an invitation, it meant absolutely
nothing to me.
And so it ovulates,
my ******* fill, denial spills with a mixture of morning sickness,
I had to calculate when this could have happened
back to that date.
And it menstruates,
I shed more than tears and shame,
with each changed pad, I shed the last remnants of him,
and of me and of the night that I can barely remember,
I vowed at that moment to lock up my guard, seal my walls shut,
no one will ever catch me that vulnerable again.
And so it dilates and contracts
and contracts and snaps back just a little more hollow,
it grieves and it heaves apologies and epithets that will
never quite satisfy or release the endorphins after an ******,
I wonder if anyone noticed that I changed.
And it pulsates again,
what did I learn these past sixteen months of abstinence?
I did not feel closer to God, I created something on the darkest
day of my life, I ended it on a Saturday morning so bright,
I am no closer to self discovery, I though that I could **** my
way back to feeling like the old me, keep wishing, keep digging,
I have lost a part of me that I am not sure I will ever get back.
And so it throbs,
to forgive and to live, look at myself in the mirror again, look at
this man the same, think he should be a father again, tell myself
to spit it out but I always end up swallowing it until I am no longer hungry.
And it pulsates,
to feel emotions, to feel love, get that heart fluttering feeling that sends
signals down to your other organs, to feel that if is okay to not always
be okay, that I am not this one mistake, my body isn't defined by that
dark day or that tragic Saturday, it pulsates every single day
to feel whole and
alive again.
I was definitely in a dark place last year, feeling depressed and that I lost myself. Writing has helped me heal and while not totally there, I'm finding myself again.
