They have all forgotten to move or to breathe. They have all forgotten to dance and to be swift and cunning and electric. They have forgotten that I existed once in this space where quiet voices heard and wanted and desired me.

I have forgotten how to exist among them. There were days when I thought all the beauty was ever flowing that my hands were my message that my mouth was my ticket, a gold mine, a gold rush.

There were days when the sun didn’t shine and even when it did my eyes were glazed over and tortured by the possibility of being someone else. And so the days grew longer and the silence took hold and the hold became stronger and the noises so much louder and the teeth bit back harder.

Still, I thought I was part of the wonder was part of the wanderer clan was outside of the normal. Deadlines keep coming and I am still standing renegaded to the back on the grounds of self-pity. There is nobody who weeps longer for me than I do.

There is no one who drinks the poison more readily than I and perhaps one day I will cease to be its prisoner but for now, it is oh so beautiful and I am so ugly. Dumping glitter on it doesn’t make it pretty does it?

I have forgotten how to exist among them. I have forgotten that words have to mean and I can wield that meaning because I haven’t and I wouldn’t. When someone tells you they don’t love you it’s supposed to make everything come out like a tortured manifesto that they all eat up.

But you have taken more than my heart you have taken what should have been my saving grace when you walked out the door and said time felt fast and slow at the same time, and not in the good way.


I have forgotten to move or breathe.

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