Peace in Pain

It all started as a lie.

Shame. Anger. Frustration. Abuse.

I can't escape it no matter how hard I try.

By middle school I feel as though my life is useless.

I used the seeds planted in me, some born with and some rerooted. Some I cast away and some I let bear fruit.

Fruition takes precedence over intuition. Innovation supersedes initiative.

What forces befallen my innocence I now knowingly conjure among the common folk. I look past the sinners but it's not for me to say the guilty shouldn't have hope.

I was more guided by rage.

Even in death I couldn't forgive.

I would rather tattoo it than remove the weight off my chest.

What was once a burden then became my scapegoat. Then my scapegoat became so soothing, comforting, my place of peace.

Eventually it became an addiction. Leading to the unthinkable. I became the monsters in the storybook. I became the legend itself. I was untouchable. The once touched became the touch-less now touching.

The more I felt the more numb I became.

The more I experienced the more it all seemed the same.

The more "NEW and KNEW" I offered, the more inside nothing changed.

Pages over pain. Sealed letters received but never read. Written over and over until my fingers bled. Spoken over and over but no ears to take heed. Ridden over and over to satisfy my needs. I need more and more I'm begging please.

Miscommunication. Misogynistic. Misdemeanor. Misconduct. Miscarriage. Missed marriage. Mrs leaving. Mirage. Bombarded. Bombay. Late nights. Pompeii.

Ten years for the dust to settle. Carbonated mellow. Flat.

I step back and allow the dust to clear.

I reach down and hug myself. Hold me tight in my arms and stand up. It's okay.

I'm right here.