I am learning to speak my mind without fear of my words being slapped from my mouth.
The command of that expression I so sparingly shared as speckled stains of blood scrawled onto walls.
Their weight and meaning becoming inaudible as though they were pulled into a vacuum and gravity was stolen from them; raging without direction silently and fluidly until finding their place onto a partition or floor; screaming back into existence as they begin to take their place.
Once, you could have walked through a home I shared with a monster and taken in word for word the horrors of my life by simply viewing the diaries of my enclosure.
An installation in a gallery with pages of secrets framed behind velvet barriers that no one knew existed on a quiet street.
An invitation I extended to you; a private tour behind the stage of my life.
Now, you chose to take what was sacred to me and shared with you as an offering as a reminder that I was once weak.
Do not confuse me with the pitiful women you have shared your life with.
I have been strengthened through the blood I’ve sacrificed.
While my scars are visible, they have been repaired with gold and made beautiful.
I am a sight to behold.
I am an entity to be desired.
Coveted.
I allowed you to possess me and slipped through your fingers as you blamed me for being too fragile to bear.
an invitation to witness the most sacred parts of me 