It’s been five months since you broke my heart, and seven since I stood on a stage with your face casually missing from the crowd. I spent four years learning, only to spend the better part of every single day unlearning how to write you down. I’m not bitter, I’m coming out.
One hundred and eleven days ago I wrote the poem that marked the downslope. I fell so far, so slowly, into the darkest dark I’ve ever known and I didn’t even dig my fingernails in on the way down. Losing you made me feel like I deserved to drown. This is the first poem I’ve begun and finished anew, and I’ve got to say, there’s a lot that comes up when you’ve spent so long forcing yourself to dismantle the sound. I am, within myself, everything I’d ever hoped could be found. I am a powerhouse.
I stand tall. It’s not because of you I lost it, but it is because of you I let myself come back from it, let myself come back into it, let my back break again to remake it, let my legs shake again to re-stake this claim – I am me. I am mine. I’ve been lost, but I wrote a road map on the walls all the way back from heartbreak and heartache, to heart give and heart take and heart want and heart make. I’m using my heart, not to make excuses to back off, to back up, to slow down, to sedate… but to create. I’m making the world step by step into the place I used to hope for. I gave up on hoping, and decided to never wait.
No excuses. There’s never too much on my plate to not find a way to be okay. This is my place. Feet planted firm, register loud and unashamed, I’ve spent too long listening to the voices telling me I’m not worth this place to stand, but I am. I’ve come and I’m taking. I’m here and I’m showing up and I’m making demands to be heard. I stand on nothing but my word.
So I guess this to say… I took the scenic route. I bent my own body into shapes to convince myself I could be right; I stopped writing. Fuck a bloody lip, I had bloody fingertips on both hands clinging to all the nothing. Yeah, I’ve been down, but I found my way. I’m doing me. I hope you’re doing okay.
November 1st, 2015