Closure After Incest Abuse
To me, it feels something like a blank page after the pen has been erased.
There is something ABOUT
This moment.
This time.
This SPACE.
A separation
From all that WAS.
A blank page,
ONCE inked
Has been erased.
The impressions of the
WORDS remain,
But the stain
Has gone AWAY.
I feel anxious to fill the page.
Define it once AGAIN.
Write with my dry pen,
I feel FRICTION.
But when I
Sit still ENOUGH,
The paleness of the page
CLAIMS:
“I did THAT.”
Memory recalls
The LOVES who
Bought me erasers,
Who pulled out erasers,
Who stayed with me
And pressed the rubber
Of our erasers
Against the darkness
Until it no longer
Stuck to me.
“WE did that.”
Liberation as
COMMUNITY.
Newness can be
penned NOW.
So what will BE?
The signatures of
My FRIENDS?
A thank you,
A million thank you’s,
A thanks to all of you?
For pulling me OUT.
And keeping me out.
For rubbing my tired
Body back to life
And gifting me
This spaciousness.
This EMPTINESS.
I’m ready.
To pen a new STORY.
To share what I know now,
From all I learned back THEN.
The rest a MYSTERY.
A reunion of past and future.
The present TURNS me.
Beautiful. And I’m excited for you, my friend.
Your words are so powerful and soft ❤️