I am water
I am sand
I am love
I am backwards
Forwards
Up
Then down
I am beautiful
I am water
I am sand
I am love
I am backwards
Forwards
Up
Then down
I am beautiful
I feel the sadness
Choking my body
And it sliding up
Through my nostrils,
Down my throat
And towards my belly button
Mixing with the water
That makes up most of me.
Fighting is all I know.
Resisting is my nature.
But Lord God!
I feel myself weakening
More and more
As I wait to be rescued
From something
No one sees
Is killing me.
Does anyone care
That I’m dying
Right in front of them?
After all the waiting,
I do the one thing
That I swore
I’d never do.
Surrender
To the overflow.
At first it hurts.
You know,
Like a
Motherfucking bitch.
The overflow tightens
Its hold on me,
Force feeding me
Depression,
Anxiety,
And rolling waves
Of PTSD.
I remember
Every time
I was gaslit
By someone
I poured
My heart out to.
I recall
The fear
The anger
The exhausting annoyance
That came from
Each time
A perverted asshole
Insistently
Sexually harassed me
With his words
His mouth
And his voice
Reeking of privilege
He knows he can abuse
Against me.
The skin of my face
Would burn
In memory
Of every time
Someone refused
To gender me correctly
And be a decent person
Because transphobia
Is synonymous
To free speech
And “being themselves”,
Because their refusal
To see and respect me
As anything
Other than a “female”
Not even a girl or woman
Honors some god-given truth
Protects feminism
The “natural family”.
But in reality,
It only protected
Bullshit,
Bigoted bitches, and
Cunts who can’t
Come correct.
I remembered,
I recalled,
The memories
Replayed
Until my heart stopped.
The overflow
Consumed me
Until there was nothing
Of the old me left.
Whatever I fought against
Was always a part of me.
It was just now joined
To my everything
Without any fight.
Now the real healing
Is about to commence.
I choose to be sad and real
Instead of happy but fake
Internally gaslit
So that other people
Are comfortable in their bullshit
While force feeding it
Into my mouth.
It looks like cooking
And waiting for the food
To burn just right.
It feels like being annoyed at roommates
Doing whatever they want and
Not washing a wine glass
That they know you use
And had also drank from.
It sounds like the fire of the stovetop
Burning hotter and hotter
As the depression swallows me up
In its suffocatingly comforting waters.
When the food is done
The leftovers are heated up
And the juice is poured
Into a recycled Pure Leaf tea bottle,
I am just simply being
In my sadness.
I accidentally
Made my roommate’s
Pad fall into the toilet
And all I did
Was wipe off the water
And put it back on the
Medicinal container.
It dried and looks like
Nothing happened.
They won’t know
What had happened.
I mean they aren’t good
With telling me things either.
They’re even worse
With not noticing
When I need someone to
Be there for me.
Sad and real
Is not a trend
A hashtag
Or a movement.
I simply am being
What I am
At this moment,
Even if it means
Doing it alone.
Image Description: Black text on white square block image reads a short writing/mini poem as follows below.
I feel safe under the trees.
They move in the gentle
Motion of the wind.
I know I can rest now.
I know that my body
Will not be exploited.
I know that my rest
Will not be politicized.
I can fantasize,
Romanticize
Anything in my dreams.
My inner child
And I are one.
I am free
In the wide landscape
Of slumber.
~GWAE
Feeling
Sad
Feeling
Horrible
Bullshitting myself on the daily
Moment-to-moment screwing up everything
Because I don’t have anything left to give the world
Because I have nothing left to give myself
My self-loathing intensifies as I hear fellow humans start their day
Cars flood the the intersection next the three-way stop sign
Next to the tree
That marks the wooden house with a red door
Screeches and hip-hop music blend into my annoyance
Birds chirping have me wanting to scream at them
But I don’t utter a word
For I am that unable to care enough
That’s why I did not shower the night before
And I unfortunately itch in the worst areas possible
I become frustrated at life moving on without me
From the steps of roommates meeting creaky hardwoord floors
To long-wailing squeal the bathroom door makes before closing or opening
And when life is playing its usual hum as the day progresses
My self-loathing,
My insecurities intensify
They are deadweights that pull me farther down
And down into an ocean I never learned to swim in
Life is too scary, too unpredictable and potentially traumatizing
That while I lie down
The place I made my safe zone in my mind
Becomes my prison
And I only want out because I see others being free
Wishing they could be my key
But then I am reminded that I am my own key
That I must unlock myself from the deadweights
In order to float back up
And if not that, then at least stop myself
From sinking further into the oblivion of depression
While I lie down
I fight that fight
And struggle with all my might
Because what is easy will keep me stuck in my pain
Trapped inside an endless cycle of nothingness
A nothingness that increases the distress of my mind and body
Yet what I want
The wanting to join the rest of the world
And be that person I dream of being
An individual who lives their dreams
In balance with their demons and light
That amount of effort, that amount of dedication
Frightens me back into abandoning myself
On more mornings than I wish to admit
I got so good at abandoning myself
Giving up before a day started
Because the possible challenges awaiting me
Seemed more treachorous than it was worth
It is only when the day is gone
When the night is waning
And just before the birds begin singing for the new dawn
That I see how much I could have gained
If only I fought to take off the deadweights
I have grown so accustomed to carrying
In my sleep
I am the nightmare.
I am the dream.
I am the god.
I am the Satan.
I am the moon and the stars, the sun and the comets.
I fall like rain and rise in time with the tides.
I flow with winds that travel beside mountains from times of old.
I am at once the wonder and also the terror.
I have known and hold both innocence and perversion within the confides of my soul.
My body has been torn apart then put back togther with the scraps of sanity I grabbed with each trial I suffered.
I know the gray areas are only bridges that keep the infinity within me anchored.
And that makes me no less the powerful human I am right now, the one I always will be.
I am Jourdan R. Lobban.
And I am Riv J. Lobban, Riv-Rayne J. Divinity.
I know that I am a survivor, a warrior, a miracle baby and person whose existence is worth celebrating.
I am at peace with the light and dark within myself. And I love all parts of me from feriociously ugly to downright beautiful.
For everything I have done that is unspeakable, I hold myself with compassion, nurturing, love, and non-judgemental, unconditional accpetance. I know that the reasons why I did those things came from parts of me deeply wounded from all the trauma I experienced.
I know who I am. I embrace who I am. I accept who I am.
I am the king who defies all.
A queen of her own right.
A downright Godx With An Edge.
And most importantly, a flame that lights up in the dark without any fucking apology.