I have just deleted two attempts at this post. I am writing because I have energy in my body that today is eating away at my bones, yet I do not know what it wants, where is the release.
There was a time when I thought the only way out was through somebody else, that by climbing into the arms of a man who I didn't have to look at, I would be able to see myself back. I shredded layers of sinew from my heart, butchering myself for a reflection that wasn't mine.
I cannot now climb into the arms of that which cannot hold me. So I write. I take pictures so that I can imprint being on my heart, so that the lesions heal as I see myself back.
Today it rained and the holes in my skin let in too much.
I am grateful for that.