the mermaid's voice returns in this one

learn how to embrace

the constellations of my own

tragedies and dive,

courageous, into

the galaxy of who I am,

emerging as the better, stronger version

I deserve myself to be.

there’s nothing stopping you from being both gentle & valiant, just & magnificent, or any combination you should ever long for.

sometimes you heal up & sometimes you

stick out at strange angles

forever….. like an elaborate self-

portrait

drawn by a six year old & so what?

that while you cannot scrub the scars from your skin

you can rearrange them into something like maps

soft, and webbed, and patiently waiting

for you to trace them

but you will grow stronger,

grow wiser,

grow the courage to look down and see

yourself in pieces at your own feet.

dare to send your fingers

dancing through the shards

before you pick them up

and call them poetry,

let the waves of

self-reflection

take you in.

wade in your honesty,

your strength, your

b r a v e r y .

we survived our abuse,

now swim.

trauma didn’t change you all at once

it carved slowly every day

like rivers do

it was patient while it hollowed you out

so it’s a sculptor or it’s a knife

you take your pain and you other it

you give it a new name

and a new face

you say this might have helped shape me

but it is not a part of me

you say i meant to break open

to make room for stars

We talk about survival

like it’s a thing that makes you

stronger.

Like it is a lesson learned.

As if it does not steal your truth

fashion it into a killing machine.

As if a thing that does not kill you

makes you more than a person

who is not killed.

I woke up the next morning

and I did not feel brave.

I woke up feeling

like the love of my life

is a monster

when

you’ve walked

on

daggers

your

entire life,

you don’t

even know

how

to trust

the softness

of

sand

between

your toes.