Tag Archives: Abuse

The True Nature of Light

11 Apr

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The thought that

I would forever be too broken to love,

And the fact that

I’ve always been too broken to love myself,

Left me longing and lingering on moments that you left behind.

I lose myself in playbacks picking up spent seconds like artifacts

With the delusional notion that if I collected enough

They’d fit together like a jig saw puzzle and form a whole heart

And like the tin man I would feel again and find this place called home

Instead of forever chasing rainbows

And losing myself on yellow brick roads

That lead me nowhere but to more nowhere guys and discarded clothes

If only I could scream out every scream I’ve ever stifled and shushed

Then maybe I’d get the drift of this emotion they call love

If only I could buffer all of the edges of me that had been broken

Recall all the hurtful things and slander my lips have ever spoken

If I could redeem one of the 4 lives I’ve already lived

And hail mary away all of my mortal sins

Then maybe, just fucking maybe,

I could find it in me to love myself

Before I try to find my love in him

But

I’ve got these multiple lives stringing behind me

Enough stories to fill the needles of a dozen junkies

I’ve been hurt enough that my hips hold bruises beneath the skin

But I’ve got one thing going

And it’s that I’m still breathing and still standing

I’m over collecting seconds and dragging old bones out of bed

So that these moments can explode and leak their shit into my head

God damn it,

I want to bloom beautiful every single morning

I was thinking that I would wait,

For a man who could give me the truth of

How much he really loves me

But right now,

I’m learning how

to find that same truth

Inside of me

I’m not perfect

My aim was never to be

I’ve got more kryptonite than superman

And it reminds me that when I fly I have to do so lightly

I soar with the high risk that I might burn up like Icarus

Idealistic and foolhardy

Yet I need to behold the beauty of the sun

Pluck it from the heavens and inspect it

Feel the warmth and soft burn upon my skin

So that I may see the true nature of light

I’m leaving my baggage grounded

I’m not too broken that I can’t take flight

When I step foot to hard earth again

I will have found the piece of me that mends

I will then retire my survivor stories

And clear a shelf to be filled with a new legacy

The legacy of how love and light

Started within me.

*

with love,

Helen K

him.

I am a King

7 Apr

I’m revisiting old writing and found a page with the writing doubled up in lines. The writing so tight and small you have to take a few moments to decipher it. The last line was the line from this poem, I find this spoken word piece so fuckin’ real, raw, and inspiring. There’s no poetic flow to my writing, no rhyme or reason, just is.

Sometime last year I wrote the following. I kept the tight pieces tight. I want to note that I am a year sober today! I have done so much hard and rewarding work on myself as an indigenous woman and I feel like the king I am. Here it is, from the depths of my blackness:

I lost pieces of myself, and I’m not sure when it started. Was it at the first drink? Was it at the first hand up the blouse? Before that? First time? Where did I lose myself? Come back to me.

New years eve. I didn’t want to be there, did not want to go there. He made me feel like I owed him. Like I was there solely for his lust. We had nothing in common. I drank fast and I drank hard and took breaks during sex to drink more. I didn’t want to be there. I lost my No. I was “ghost rode” by an old man. I remember him saying I was fucking beautiful with an anger in his voice. A piece of me died. I started to black out and wake up with strangers. I lost my no. I lost more pieces of myself, cheated on myself. I lusted. I hurt. I got wasted. I threw myself on people.

I forgot my worth somewhere and let men who did not care about me, stake their claim to me. I just wanted somebody to care, someone to really love me. It hurts that he still doesn’t. I lost a piece of me. I let him treat me badly in my confusion.

Irememberhowweirditwashowtheyplayedwithbarbiedolls.Irememberherclimbingdown

fromthetopbunkandgoingdownonme.Irememberbeinginstructedtodothesame.Idid.

Iwasjustagirl.Iremembersexbeingnormalandwhensomeonedidn’twantmeitwas

weird.Ifeltrejected.Ineededtobeneeded.Iremembertheweirdsexgamesmyol

derrelativesplayedandhowIjustwantedtohangoutwiththem.Iwasjustagirl. I went too far with someone I didn’t see a future with. I hurt them. I blabbed out my deepest secrets high on coke, reliving the fucking pain. Itmakesmyfuckingskincrawl. I forgave others before I forgave myself. I gave myself away and betrayed what was sacred. I feellikewhenIdrinkwithnativepeopleIamabusingthem.Images of me high on coke make me sick. I was laying there beside him. I could have told him to sleep in the bedroom but I didn’t. I woke up to him doing stuff to me. I told him to leave me alone and go to bed. I didn’t kick him out. I slept more. He did it again. He was bigger than me. He was on steroids. I let him spend himself inside of me. Saying yes seemed easier than rape. I cried after and he left the room and slept on the couch. He came in the room in the morning and acted like we were lovers. I haven’t forgave him yet. I still hold anger. I must forgive.

I am a king. I dare you to tell me otherwise.

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