“LISTEN”

The second part to the “Purge” series. 


 

Terrible nightmares, the rare kind
are normal
For people who have seen them come true
Before they even dreamt them.

I’m woken up everyday at exactly 5 am
It’s like my body knows when the monsters come
Like it knows: the unwanted touch
Like it knows: the bleeding wound
Like it knows: the bruises
Like it knows: screams crawling into my skin
Like it knows: exactly where all the scars are.

After I wake
My heat rattles like a wooden toolbox
too big for the number of nails inside it.
My hands tremble, I say, “Hush!
You’re braver than this!”
I say, “Hush! Allah is here.”
I say, “How much of this will be real?”
I say, “We don’t know yet but
lets hope not too much.”

I say,
“You are not alone.”

But, you!
Do you have tears in your eyes yet?
I know you’re there too.
I know you’re just like me.
So listen closely, to
what I’m about to tell you:

The abusers
The rapists
And the liars
Cannot put out the fires
We’ve lit inside our bones.
They make the world bright
They make the culprits burn!
175 years in prison
or 175 million, in hell.

And sometimes, they hurt…
When we don’t want them.

But, honey! Want them!
For they are your recompense
Your own personal miracle.

They are your soul, lit!
Lit enough to light others,
Lit enough to make an example
out of how lit you are
Damn, girl!/
Damn, boy!/
Damn, self!
You are lit!
And I adore you for it.

It is time that you did too.

“PURGE”

“Purge” is about cleaning out what has been inside forever. It’s about looking at all of yourself and accepting it with open arms, and in the end of this potential series of poems that will follow this one, hopefully, falling in love with yourself.


 

My innocence is the grave that no one brings flowers to.

My past is a bed of thorns that I lie in everyday.
Some nights, I don’t get a single scratch
And on others, I talk to the moon
to distract myself from how I’m bleeding out;
Only to recover the next morning.

Where the new dawn calls me, I walk.
I am chained.
I haul the poles I’m chained to, out of the ground, and I walk.
Then like an Olympic hammer throw, I toss them away,
Glory and sway!
And the crowd roars in applause!
…but the seats are empty.
And the chains are still tied to the hammers,
clawed around my wrists…
So I walk.

I wonder if the universe were upside down
And we were all stars that stars gazed upon,
Would they have found me in a constellation?
Would I even be aware that I was part of one?
Or would I be the star that exploded alone
as lovers watched through a telescope,
wishing for eternal joy;
Because the way I shot through the sky that night
was too damn miraculous.
Would they tell their grandkids
how their first kiss
was underneath my final light?

What will I be telling mine?