Wonder Waves

The rage inside me is a wave, continuous

and always on the move, changing

with each new amplitude - breeds a unique battle ground,

each more calamitous than the last.

But the words rolled around, over and over again

in my head, and on my tongue

are the same, trite and crass.

The meaning of them grows obsolete

and only proves the mind's subservience to a distant past,

as the will to fight fluctuates in violent streams.

Like the Sun I hold no peace,

but there is equilibrium within reach.

I believe I can but just can't figure out

how to stop, or fool, or destroy an enemy

which is neither man nor ghost,

but inherent contradiction

between the self and the soul.

Body Fear

Please do not try to touch me
for what you perceive as my body - is not,
is an empty carcass which does nothing
to protect me from others' harm.

Either the world is blind or am I, and surely twisted.

And none who hold more shame in knowing

that truth was only myth, incarnated.

They say enveloped in another's arms,

all perils not gone shall be diminished,

so I never would have envisioned

beyond my wildest fabrications,

that love itself was the specter;

the demon in my view.

Feigning to be the greatest guardian,

then turning inward to covet

the very seed you created.

So tell me what is Truth?

I know not what intimacy is, only that it handles

my body in hands which are cold, thus a degree of potency

I could not sever myself from such strange affectivity.

Now I am older, and still I feel the same.

Nowhere to place this anger,
so it stays inside my veins.
I thought I would heal with time,
but my skin would not let me forget.
I would like to love again, but you are just like him:
whereas once I held you in such high revere
now I shrink back from you in fear.

Retrograde Motion

I am back in the 90's, musically. The sweet, old school tunes of Sugar Ray, Everclear, Third Eye Blind, 2pac, Notorious B.I.G and many other gems are my only company deep into the night. A warm, fuzzy, familiar feeling returns every time I play these songs, and in my dismal circumstances I feel a balm-like hope seeping out of my troubles.

Yesterday I attended my second SIA meeting, and actually opened up to several other survivors, and one woman in particular named Evelyn, who knew exactly what I've been through, and worse. In 2 meetings, this support group has already been more effective than 7 sessions with my previous therapist, not to mention without a bloody $400 dent in my pocket. Although my abuse was short-lived, no one around me, not my family or exes or best friends, knows or is even vaguely aware of how traumatized and scarred the experience left me; how much shame, loneliness, and anger I have harbored for so long, or how detrimental the effects have been. But I'm getting better, and now I have a small, close-knit community which not only understands but helps to pull one another through the painful darkness.

Revisiting the past doesn't always necessarily mean moving backwards. Tycho was wrong about the planets, after all. Settling the past will help me get back on track with my goals, whether those are academic, financial, or emotional. Already I'm formulating and focusing. The past is a cripple to me now? I think not.

Two nights before I turned 13. I know because the morning after, all I did was play Blink 182's "Take Off Your Pants and Jacket" album over and over, that the next day, I almost forgot I had become a teenager overnight.