mental health · poem · poetry · recovery

daddy issues

I don’t know if I forgive you.

And maybe I don’t want to know.

Maybe our history sits like smoke

That won’t leave my lungs.

I don’t know how I want to die.

But man, smoke inhalation’s not really my jam.

And maybe the tendrils of your apology

Are filled with poison that rip my tears apart.

I don’t know if I want you in my life.

And maybe that’s where I need to be.

Or maybe this is another way you control me,

By offering something so worthless.

And maybe forcing my hand is another act

Of violence done with a smirk on your face.

daily prompt · mental health · poem · poetry · recovery

letter to my harasser

i knew you were doped up.
i could see it in your stare.
the way you stared into nothing
with the danger glinting there.

you approached her and i watched,
ready to intervene.
a woman’s intuition from
all the things I’ve felt and seen.

instead you made eye contact,
stalked me down and sat too close
put your hand upon my knee
while I shoved and I said no.

arm comes up around my shoulders
hand going back up on my thigh
grabbing me in closer while my
anger intensified

i told you to back off
while you started up again,
fed up with your bullshit
I got up to make this end.

You see where I am going
grabbed my arm so hard it hurt
I do not break or slow my stride
you scumbag piece of dirt.

security did nothing
yet you still ran far away
don’t tell me you were too doped up
to know that’s not okay.

if you see nothing wrong with this
the problem lies with you
this shit that happens daily is
both harmful and too true.

[via daily prompt – harmful]

love · mental health · prose · recovery

Crybaby

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“They called me a crybaby, mama,” the young girl wiped her eyes with a sniffle, a forlorn expression adorning her face.

“Oh baby,” said the woman, crouching down beside her darling daughter, “weak boys see tears and think they’ve won. Can I tell you a story?”

The daughter nodded and crawled into her mother’s lap.

Arms wrapped around her baby, the woman pressed a kiss to her fine hair. “Once upon a time there was a man who said horrible things to his partner. He said these horrible things and left her crying alone on the boardwalk by their house. The woman’s tears fell freely but she did not try to stop them. Instead she had a beautiful thought.”

“What was that, mama?” asked the young girl, her tears forgotten.

“She thought to herself, my tears are like this ocean I walk past every day. Salt water that can mean beauty and also pain. Soft enough to nurture and powerful enough to destroy. I am like this ocean I walk past every day. The woman realized how beautiful it is, to hold a balance of softness and power, and realized you cannot have one without the other. Do you know what that means about the man?” When her daughter shook her head, she continued, “this man believes he has power but shows no softness. He was a lost soul who hadn’t yet found balance. He thought she was just a–”

“Crybaby,” the daughter whispered, a slow smile on her face. “But she wasn’t just that mama, was she?”

Mama shook her head with a smile, “She learned to love her tears because they showed her softness. And in that moment she realized she held power, too. Just like you, baby. You are soft and you are powerful. You are like the ocean we go to every summer. And those boys have no idea the force that they reckoned with today.”

daily prompt · mental health · poem · poetry · recovery · travel

You know what they say…

 

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I know I don’t look like much.
Almost like one gentle touch
would break a bone.
And I know you’re worried I might break.
As if one blow is all it’d take
to make me fall to pieces.
I see that everyone is doubting me.
Living with an ideology
that small things are not powerful.

You know what they say about assumptions.
Watch me conquer your presumptions
and then laugh at you.

You big asshole.

{via daily prompt: assumption}

daily prompt · love · mental health · poem · poetry · recovery · travel

Infect

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Infect
[in-fekt]
to imbue with some pernicious belief, opinion, etc.; to influence feeling or action

Slithering snake of society,
Tactless tundra of intolerance,
You think you control me?
You think you hold the strength
to infect me with your filth?
Incessant ideologies of ignorance,
Persistantly trying to penetrate, and yet
Your walls do not close on me.
I am a warrior woman.
Strong in stature and stamina
Blasting through your bullshit.
Fuck your fake foolish fantasies
About who I’m meant to be.
Do not think for one moment that you
Hold the power to infect me.

via Daily Prompt: Infect