©2017 by HEAL(er). Proudly created with Wix.com

Wild Thing Interlude

January 25, 2018

 

 

The day I tell my therapist about my rapes, it is raining. I am wearing a hoodie and more eyeliner than usual; when she asks why I seem upset, I dissociate and tell her a story about something I try hard to never think about.

 

I’ve got issues, I probably say. I don’t remember, I made a mistake, I have never told anyone, I don’t remember, looking for evidence of my own pain, how memory yanks me back into the basement, windowless, concrete floor, not wanting to be alone in the house.

 

I don’t have much to say besides I can’t breathe. I don’t talk about it. I stare at the Matisse print on the wall across from the couch where I pull two pillows into my chest.

 

The wild things I've been are shredding me like defeat doesn't slip past me,

 

Please reload

Recent Posts

January 21, 2020

January 20, 2020

Please reload

Archive

Please reload

Tags

I'm busy working on my blog posts. Watch this space!

Please reload

 
This site was designed with the
.com
website builder. Create your website today.
Start Now