wearing a warm robe in a cool back room
is my present reality
only words on this page have meaning
not the ones in my head
that I rehearse
to countless perpetrators
of countless wrongs
that never happened
i want to believe in
out with the old in with the new
sometimes the old was better
memories cannot be erased
I have tried
and it does not work
July means so many things
from long lost loves
to diamond rings
from baby born
and baby unborn
sad secrets of
the lost forlorn
who wander still
throughout the meadows
of the night
the butterflies will dance through days
with slowed breathing
till silence speaks
which way which way
to go today
what date is it
for that will be
days mean for me..
They had her strip to bare her chest
She lay upon a table
The lights were bright
Her pulse was racing
Too much too soon
sheer panic when two women stood above
To rub and cleanse her
The cuff so tight upon her arm
Their faces stern and cold as ice
While gluing leads upon her chest
Which heaved while her pulse was racing
Don’t touch me please.
Cover me please.
Help me please.
Let me up.
Let me go.
You don’t know
That my mind is back when I was vulnerable
In every dream I cannot run
In every room without a door
In every corner, every basement, on every floor
“We cannot do the test my dear
Your pressure up it’s very clear
You must be stressed
Not on my life
would I agree
for such humiliation
of that degree..
what lies beyond the veil that shrouds our minds
from memories and thoughts best left behind
like the dense fog lying low in the valley
the thought just barely out of reach
the creation of the veil is not easily forsaken
besides, there really is no purpose now for clarity
and the pattern has been lived too long
the veil is a smooth safety net
covering truths best never met..
One Heart is all about diversity, and acceptance.
It explores the reality of our differences. We all look differently on the outside. Different hair color, skin color, eye color. We even like different things. That’s not what’s most important. If you look at who we truly are, at our core, we are all the same. We need to spread this message to children, and to the world. Especially now when everyone is taking sides. Politically, religiously, etc. We are a muticultural world. Our differences on the outside make us unique, but our hearts need to be unified. One heart.
My sister turns 70 this year. I want to give her something special because it’s a milestone year, and she is very dear to me. I have our mother’s pearls. They ended up with me because she lived in my home the last 9 months of her life before her death. That was eight years ago.
They are a set of beautiful cultured pearls. A gift from my Dad to my Mom many years ago. They have a beautiful sheen about them and all are a muted white except for four that are slightly darker.
I wanted to save them for one of my daughters. Yet how would I decide which one? I have already given them both some of her jewelry and I will of course, be giving them mine. Probably before I die, so as to know who really wants what.
The pearls need to be restrung with knots. It would not be safe to wear them now and there is a gap before the catch. They make me think of my mom and all the times I would help her with the clasp when she would be going out to a special occasion with my dad.. I would put on her makeup and polish her nails and the pearls would come on last. They show up in many family photographs.
I brought them to a jeweler, told her the story, and when I picked them up I marveled at how beautiful they looked, she had put the four that were slightly different in the back. It was really a big thing, silly as it might seem, for me to let go of the pearls. I teared up, and felt that funny feeling in my gut. I know my sister will cherish them as much as me. I think she has always wanted them but never said, at least that’s what I “feel”.
The birthday party came and went , I gave her the pearls in a pretty pouch inside a larger box with a picture of us on it and it was funny because she said “ I wanted to wear pearls today but realized I didn’t have the right ones”.
I knew what she meant and I smiled because she has the right ones now.
amazing post..yes, yes yes! thank you for speaking for so many..
Why don’t survivors speak? It’s not just for the reasons you think.
Let’s take a journey inside the brain and nervous system of a woman or trans person experiencing serious gendered violence.
First, let’s visit Broca’s Area
Broca’s Area is a furl of neural matter in the left half of your brain, curled behind your left temple, above your left ear. There it is – the smaller of two orange patches. On the left, there:
For the neuroscience geeks in the room, Broca’s area was the first area of the brain to be associated with a specific function, when in 1861 Paul Broca examined the brain of a man who, in life, had been unable to speak, and discovered a significant lesion in the left frontal lobe. (That big hole in the brain in this picture below.)
Here’s a picture of the brain of a man who went by the name ‘Tan’ because that was the only word…
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