Who carries the anger for the people who branded me with this trauma
The same anger I once had
There are weeks where it is all just a hazy memory yet I’m still stuck looking over my shoulder
My mind has never left fight or flight and this is just a reflex now
Words for what they did never sit quite right
All of them taste sour on my tongue but I am told not to sugar coat the pain
The first stage of grief is denial and I have been grieving who I should have grown to become
At 13 I wanted to be a surgeon, a year later I wanted to have left this earth
Parts of me still believe who I was at 13 is still there in all her naive brilliance but I cannot unearth her
Maybe my 14 year old wish did come true but denial is a strong drug
Actions speak louder than anything and I thought all the kindness and forgiveness I had for them would help them change
The sun and stars were stripped from my sky in return
I could not forge the light at the end of the tunnel of my suffering
My suicide note was whispered in each minute action
I ended up bottling up my anger and throwing it out to sea
It would be no use anywhere else
Maybe you should too