Trigger Warnings: (implied) sexual assault, self-harm, depression, loss
a lifeverse--a name for the infinitely small or large lifetimes within your own
I have lived three lifetimes since I awoke this morning. I shall live three more by dinner time, maybe four by the time I rest my head.
Over the past few months, I have been toying with the concept of a lifetime. Lifetimes may be the largest metric of time that we can personally measure, yet I still feel as though I have lived several lifetimes within my own, particularly regarding the incomprehensible pain that has accompanied me this past year. There are people with whom I feel I have lived through multiple lifetimes. There are events that shook me to the core, leading me to wonder if I have survived several more. Some lifetimes, or lifeverses, last only moments. Some take longer to transpire.
Here are some of the lifeverses I have lived over the past five months.
---
i rarely worry
for my safety
while i’m alone
the worst thing
that ever happened to me
was in a room
full of people watching
---
my children will never watch the little mermaid
they will never learn to love someone
who adores them
only when they cannot speak
they with never love someone
who oppresses them
---
if i have entrusted you with my story
with my pain that i have taken
so long to relinquish
do not ask me for details.
---
his hand covered my mouth,
silencing me--
--but only in that moment.
i am still here.
this time, louder
and stronger
than ever.
you cannot
you will not
silence me.
---
the lighter
sometimes i’d ignite it
just to watch it burn orange
between my fingertips
sometimes i’d draw it
just a little too close
i didn’t buy it
i found it on the floor
tangled in a pile of my clothes
not sure how they got there
---
if i can love them,
i have the capacity to love myself, too.
---
darling,
be gentle with yourself.
you still have lifetimes left to live.
---
i’d call this
taking back ownership of myself
but you never owned me
i am no trophy
no possession
there’s no taking back
what never was
(and has never been)
yours
---
no one soul could ever disrupt your functionality,
for you could breathe
long before you could love
---
the sooner you write it,
the sooner you allow it to exist apart from you.
---
why can’t you let me rest?
let me live in my own skin?
exist in my own skull?
you tie me to my bed
and question why i can’t move
you leave
only to replace yourself with danger
i’d rather feel empty than this
who gifted you lungs
and into you, breathed life?
like a parasite, you consume me
you find solace in a home you stole
and assume it as your own
when will you allow me to survive in myself?
---
will you ever forgive yourself
for something you didn’t do?
---
you did not ignite a fire within me.
the fire was already there,
burning, cackling.
you were afraid to get too close
for fear of getting burnt.
what a shame that is.
my flame keeps me warm--
i add the charcoal myself.
---
my condolences to the cautious soul
who approached the fire
burning within me
and stepped back
for fear of getting burnt
---
gently, i return to myself without mention that i ever left.
---
i am okay. what a beautiful intervention.
---
relish
the pieces of you
for which no one else can take credit
---
in unlearning you, i learned myself.
By Tasha Boyer.