If My Body Could Speak

Even though trauma has a way of becoming the wallpaper of my head, watch me drag the art out of my suffering. Watch me plant seeds down my spine and bloom into a garden of poetry from every horrible thing that has ever happened to me, all the nights my voice turned to cement and I couldn't say anything- Watch me build an empire from the ashes of everything that tried to destroy me.

Half daughter, half apology, all fire and the wrong kind of love.

I don’t know how to talk about the rabbit hole without accidentally inviting you to follow me down it.

You could literally saw a woman in half and it would still be called a magic trick.

I am embarrassed instead of proud of all the mad things I have done for happiness

I am certain everything is a poem if you catch it in just the right light

I tried to go a whole day pretending this body is not a memorial of violent memories.

You were everything bright and leaving.

Remember: you did the best you could in the situation you were in with the materials you had.

We understood the many ways a mother's shame can haunt a daughter's body.

come back to the city it was easiest for you to breathe in

If your body could speak would she forgive you?

She swallows knives, then gets angry when you make her spit them out and don’t name her magic.

When your mother kisses you on the scalp, let her. Let your father hug you, hard.