My mind feels like it has been hijacked
by all the things I am trying to separate
myself from.
The wounds from my childhood,
that I am working tirelessly to heal,
feel broken open,
exposed and vulnerable.
It is amazing the strength of the past,
how cruelty can still strike so deep,
despite protective armor
and proper coping skills.
Rage.
I feel invaded,
disrespected,
and pensive.
Rage.
I feel alone,
empty,
and disconnected.
Rage.
I long for connection
with no desire to put out
my hand.
Rage.
This feeling
threatens to take my breath,
it tightens my throat,
and it speaks through my eyes.
Rage.
I can hear the echoes of a little girl.
I feel the emotions she cannot name.
She feels forgotten,
alone,
and empty.
She is angry.
She still longs for connection.
She grieves all that was stolen,
and all that she has lost.
So angry …
She is screaming with rage through my tears:
“I just wanted to be loved”.
So I will embrace her,
I will love her,
I will be for her, everything they are not.
I will stand in this rage with her,
until she is ready to let it go
on her own.
***
written by: Shanon Page