Heavy

Bring lightness?

But I am so heavy.

The mass of my grief pulls me down

To the floor

To the center of the earth

Gravity like giant hands

Gripping my arms

Gutting me open to grab at my core

Sadness as a weighted blanket

Stretching over my head, my mouth

Sinking me lower and lower

My mouth is too tired to speak

My muscles are too swollen to push

My body is too dense with memories

I don't bring lightness or light

You can't lift me up

I am tremendous

I am so full of all things

I am heavy like history

I am rooted like history

I am strong, forgettable, and solid

I am invisible and sufficient

I am the floor you step on

I am the arms around you when you fall

And I do not need to be light

To be everything to someone

Take

You've taken fingers off.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

You've taken fingers off both my hands.

You've taken gloves off

Shown me what you can say and do

You've taken gloves off and set to work.

You've taken clothes off

Comfortably against my discomfort

You've taken clothes off with the light on.

You've taken off

Disappeared when I needed you most

You've taken off alone in the night.

You've taken

And you've taken

Til you've taken all of me away

Gander

If you

Stabbed me in the chest

With a kitchen knife

And I dripped

"Fuck you"

From my lips

You would not speak to me for three days

You would say "nah, fuck me, right?"

And look right past me

And at my funeral

You would say I was really pretty mean

Then you'd need another three days

To recover from the sound

Of other people crying

And maybe three days after that

You'd have a reasonable excuse

To say things like "fuck you"

Because

Of course

You'd be "griev ing."

TW

I remember when I realized he raped me

And the joke wasn't funny anymore

I remember standing in the front lawn

When he called me a whore

I remember throwing up after the baby

Until my entire soul was sore

I remember thinking I had found hope

Then being punished for wanting more

And yet

When you want me to forget

How I deserve to be treated

Or what I desperately needed

All you have to do is yank away

Anything I try to say

Crumple it

Spit on it

Twist it up until I've lost the thread

Leave me on read

Fuck you

You made me promise not to say

Fuck you

But I have given up on being known

I have given up on being heard

So if all that is left of me

Is a muted TV

The caption will still read

FUCK YOU

Silence

 Silence when I wake up

He's working

 Silence when I bring home food

His stomach hurts

 Silence when I rush to work

He's tired

 Silence when I rush home for lunches

He's napping

 Silence when I leave again

I've left so many of the chores for him

 Silence when I am at work

He's napping again

 Silence when I come home

He needs a break

 Silence when they eat dinner

He needs a break

 Silence when they go to bed

He needs a break

 Silence when they've been asleep

He needs a break

I am alone, pumping my arms through the ocean, day and night. A novel for a brain, narrated to the inside of my skull. A secret logbook that verifies to only me all the challenges, victories, guilts, fears, enthusiasm, ideas, goals, and interests.

One day, if I drown, will my mind be squished down into a bottle, corked, and washed up on a shore somewhere I never had the time or money to go?

Will the person who reads it, years, generations, ages from now, be the person I have been hoping for, the person who will see me, accept me, love who I was, so many years, generations, ages before?

Or will I float into the great pacific garbage patch and contribute my hopes and passions to the toxicity of the ocean.