Surviving the Telling Unfinished

Surviving the Telling Unfinished

Listen:
this is how I want to tell you.
Gentle
like the softest moments of morning
just listen
to how I tell you because
stories aren’t meant to be told they’re
not meant to be heard
stories
are meant to be felt and you
need to feel my story so listen
to how I try to tell you.

Smiling.
I want to be smiling because smiles
smooth the jagged edges of a burning story and
I want you to hear the story but
angry.
I want to be angry because I want
you to hear the me that says
“can you believe he said that” and
“how dare he touch me there” and
“he left bruises where…” and
I will be angry because he
broke me open
left me only
sleepless nights, so
when I tell you
hear me angry.

Hear me angry and watch
me smile because I
am so fucking strong I can smile while I’m breaking.
I want you to know I’m strong, but
sad. I want to cry so you will hold me and say
“you don’t have to carry this alone” because
being strong leaves me so alone and
I won’t cry to you but
I want to know that you want me to because
you want to cry with me but
be willing to be strong for me because
you don’t even know the half of it and I
have been so strong for everyone else and sad
is almost harder than angry so say
that it wasn’t my fault.
Know I don’t believe it but
dare to love me anyway because one day
I won’t swallow his lies as truth and
some day
it won’t hurt so bad
but today
it’s been a year
since the night he left me broken
since the night she cracked me open and
it hasn’t healed yet but
listen:

I don’t want you to know this story because then
it’s one more person who knows that I’m hiding.
One more person
whose trust I’m buying
with hopeful eyes and not much more.
We’re all only human but I
have nothing left to give
cause I spent the rest just trying to survive
to make it through the nightmares alive, so I
tell nothing. Not the way
I remember shaking
knees pulled to my chest and the way
I refused to sleep because sleep
means trust
and nothing
was meant to be trusted and thoughts
are like armies
holding me hostage in my brain, while he
lives on without shame, and she
tells lies that dissolve me in others’ eyes
so listen:

I just want to know you hear the story
that you see I survived
cause tonight
it’s been a year.
I don’t know where the year has gone cause now
I wake shaking
knees to my chest
breaking
forgetting anything I ever knew
so if you hear me
remind me
that anger
is beautiful and
intellect
is loveable
and sometimes
no takes more confidence than yes
but the world
doesn’t know it.

I forget to remember
that no always means no
loveable isn't a privilege you earn
and hate can’t touch beautiful
so I need you to hear me
when I say
(are you listening?)
this
is my story
these words
house my fears
I don't know where we go from here
you, holding the story,
me, surviving the telling
even as the telling's unfinished
cause I don't know the ending
the mending may never come, but
listen:

if anger is beautiful
and intellect is loveable
if no means no and
no takes more confidence than yes
if loveable isn't something you earn
and hate can't touch beautiful
then I
am...
waiting.