i had a shocking moment awhile ago.
let's pretend for a moment that i went through some major trauma this past year.
and that, all things said and done, i am not the same woman i ever was. i'm better. i'm stronger. i'm more full.
and i know this.
when i was flipping through old headshots of mine the other day,
i found these photos.
the one of the left, taken October 2010.
the one on the right, taken July 2011.
less than a year apart
and the difference in character is momentous.
thank you, Misfortune, for giving me a new playground to play in!
thank you, Trauma, for teaching me how to listen and love myself!
thank you, Obstacles, for giving me the strength to climb forward!
thank you, Love, for reminding me how open.
thank you, Safety, for giving me a home.
thank you, Time, for continuously healing all.
I cannot play my memories
Without freaking out.
No happy tunes, no barefoot times
a me that has already happened
a me that did not see it coming.
I want to scream through my mind
Little Girl! Wake up and get out of there!
I play his breath,
I repeat his eyes
And my skin creeps up. My throat closes and I
Begin to strangle myself, again.
I fast forward my memories as fast as I can!
The me that used to exist
The me before I was killed
The me before I was born again
(And am as awesome as I am now)
Has creeped her creepy, crawly, baby fingers into my hair
And my ears
And my neck
And wound her little creepy dead fingers in
And through my heart.
I do not know what to do with this dead me,
This dead me with vacant, laughing eyes
A hollow, full smile with clean, white teeth.
I have this little girl,
limp and gray and devoid in my arms.
Must I carry her with me?
Perhaps I can rejuvenate her.
Perhaps I can relearn her, reteach her, reach out
And refuel her.
Perhaps I can love her/perhaps I can love me.