*Read trigger warning in full.

This writing piece discusses: suicide, rape, sexual assault, death, murder, systemic oppression, depression and anxiety symbolism and analogies. Read if you’re comfortable. If not, take care of your needs. This was written for my own release. Yours is allowed to be away from this post. Take care. You are awesome and amazingly lovely.

I keep seeing this number
Then I remember
That there is a lot
Out of my control.

If I try to force everything
And I mean everything
Into under my wing
It will fly out
From under me
And I may never see
Any of it again.

My floors are crumbling,
The glass of my windows
Are shattering
In time to the water
Bursting from the pipes.
I see flames flaring to life
At each corner
Of this space
I’ve tried to keep safe.

I cannot force the door
to stay upright.
I cannot put the water
Back where it came from.

I cannot remove
What is keeping the people
I love and care about
From reaching back out to me.

I cannot fix the system
That continually makes it
Near impossible
For me to live
A liveable life
That is worthy of me.

I cannot control
Who raped me,
Assaulted me,
Had beaten me,
Nearly killed me.

I cannot control
Who I like,
Who I love,
Who I fall in love with,
What they go through,
And if
Or when
They come back to me.

I cannot control
The amount of death
I was born out of
Nor the amount of death
I was born into
Then followed me
As my shadows.

I cannot control
that my mom died
In front of me,
Along with
The person I was
For her.

I cannot control
That that my dad
Was never really okay,
And never for the help he needed.
I was never meant to be
The sacrificial lamb
To keep him from
Terrorizing my extended family.
And I cannot change
What he’s done,
What my family never did
To protect me,
Or the consequences
Coming for all of them.

I cannot control
That I have been alone
For so long,
Too many times in my life.
That it has eroded my sanity,
Made me suicidal,
Making me want,
Then attempt,
To kill myself.

I cannot control
That I’ve had to be the one
To keep myself from
Ever completing an attempt
And kept myself alive,
When doctors, therapists,
Hospitals, family,
Friends, and so many others
Failed to be there for me.

I don’t think we ever have control
That’s what people don’t want to admit.

It’s affirming that not having control
Doesn’t automatically mean
Things will hurt us
I believe I most struggle with.

I may not be able
To control everything
That happens to me,
What people do
Or don’t do.

I may not always
Be able to control
What I do
One hundred percent
Of the time.

And it may be okay,
That those things are true.

Living your best life
Is overated.

Living a life
That is peaceful,
Where my needs are met,
And I am comfortable,
Can do fun things if I want to,
That’s for me.

It took seven tries
And six deaths
For me to be here.
I died one thousand times
And came back to life
One thousand more
To be the person I am now
Writing this.

There were many days
Of my not thinking
I would be here
And that people wouldn’t care
If I was gone.
I write this knowing that isn’t true.
Some take longer to tell you,
Some have a journey to take
Before they are ready to face
The infinity that is you
But it doesn’t make what they say
Any less genuine.
It doesn’t make what they feel towards you
Any less real and true

I will take care of myself.
I will be kind to myself.
I will be gentle with myself.
I will do what I can little by little.
Whatever I cannot control,
I will let those things sort themselves out.
And the people in my life,
Those I like,
Those I love,
The one I may have
Or will
Fall in love with,
Those I care for most deeply,
I trust they will find their way home.
First to themselves.
Then to me.
And by then,
My new home
Will be in much better shape
For new comfort and contentment.