Cup

This is it, the big one

The debridement of my most primordial wound

Dissection of what my parents did and didn’t do

Releasing us both from the impossible task of fulfilling each other’s expectations

Seeing them for the first time as the narcissists they are

Pretending to love me only when I made them look good

Spitting on me with their words and crushing me under the boots of their ego when I was hurting

When I needed them most they abandoned me

Like childish bullies, they took no responsibility for themselves or others

I’ve turned my face to them time and time again looking for love, searching in vain, coming up short

They refuse to see the parts of me that they don’t want to

My father told me I was flabby and looked like a monster when I was 15 years old

I subsisted on a high-glycemic diet stolen from my workplace because there wasn’t enough food at home, which resulted in weight gain and horrendous acne

I didn’t see my father for what he was; a negligent parent and an asshole.

Instead I wallowed in sorrow for my innate deficiencies, contemplated suicide because I wasn’t beautiful enough

Don’t worry Dad, I was still attractive enough to get raped enough times to lose count

As if you care

I can’t imagine treating my child the way you treat me

Lord, help these wounds heal

I am ready to move on, to break the inter-generational chain of toxic parenting

To write a new song instead of the broken-record of your critical dialogue

You can live your life in crisis mode, but don’t impose your crises on me anymore.

You imprinted your patterns of anxiety on my developing body and brain

I felt the need to gain the gushing approval of everyone around me

To be the smartest, prettiest and most accomplished in the room

I made many men swoon

I don’t need that anymore

Take your booze and do with it what you will

My cup is full

I depend on no man to keep it filled

Self Love

I love me, even if I say it sheepishly

I love me, so you’ve got to let me be

Even if in your mind I am still a caged animal

What matters is that in my mind I am a soaring and roaring and free from your attempts to limit my potential and happiness

I love myself, though it took me a lifetime to learn

Frozen in fear, chained to a sense of obligation

I believed I was responsible for everybody else’s feelings; those around me felt awful, so I felt worse

I am only responsible for myself, and I am learning to care for myself with a fraction of what I’ve given to others

Standing at the crossroads of the future and the past

Searching for a way to make this moment last

The future came and passed

All we have is the eternal now

The sun blinds my gaze

I bow my head, lower my eyes in humility

Bask in all that is illuminated

This is for us

Even when we are persecuted and oppressed

This world is for all of us

Let the haters hate themselves

I stand strong in love

I am rooted in love, overflowing with love

Love nourishes and protects me, uplifts me and sustains me

May I remember this moment when I feel weak and defeated

May I refill my cup before I am completely depleted

I cultivate my spirit, pull out the weeds from the garden of my heart

What I used to perceive as my weakness was my strength all along

Good

I no longer strive to be labeled as ‘good’ by others

Like a trained fucking dog

I don’t want to act sweet

When I feel salty and bitter

I never wanted to fit into a box

Or stay between the lines

I don’t even belong indoors

I am a wild, free woman

If that means I’m not the angel you thought I was

Then light up the fire and brimstone

Too long have I carried the burden of trying to save the world while looking cute and put-together

Always satisfying other’s needs like plugging holes in a dam and I’m about to burst

I tremble and ache to let go of the many ropes which bind me

So many roles to play and expectations to meet

No wonder I have no time or energy left for me

I am the only person I can save, and my liberation doesn’t require fake smiles or insincere social pleasantries

To live my best life

I must aspire to be more than simply good

I must liberate myself from the ribbon I am wrapped up in

Rip off the docile doll’s dress and burn it,

Warming my hands and illuminating my night

I must feel my body and ride the waves of my emotions with shuddering ecstasy

You want me to be good

But I want to be better

Workaholic

I went into medicine partly due to heartbreak

The exhaustive training of medical school and residency was a welcome albeit ineffective distraction from my sorrow and loneliness

24-hour shifts are a convenient justification for not keeping in touch with loved ones

Even though the real excuse is my social anxiety and sense of inadequacy

Living within hospital walls, I suspect that I am not the only physician who became a medical doctor to try to forget unrequited love, to escape the world of human relationships

My older colleagues work far more than they need to to make ends meet, far more than any reasonable person would work in a week

Who needs friends or feelings when you have patients and science?

Our skin grows pale under fluorescent lights

Our vision becomes shortsighted as the screens stare unblinkingly

Our hearts forget how to feel carefree

Our muscles atrophy as our brains hypertrophy

Our minds become boxed in with facts, our mental filing cabinets overflow

I am a recovering workaholic working alongside workaholics who do not appear to be in recovery

Perhaps they suspect the same of me

Heads down in the trenches, none of us can know another’s heart

We can only know our own heart, if we listen

We carefully administer medications, surgeries and therapies

We measure progress in numerical metrics of lab values, calculated scores and vital signs

We arrive early and stay late

We work day and night without a break

We always have too much on our plates

We deprive ourselves of sleep, fresh air and food

We know why we have irritable moods

Practicing medicine is an unhealthy, imbalanced lifestyle and we know it

We can only ever heal ourselves

I’m ready to show it

I am finally healing my broken heart

I found that I had to begin at the start

Childhood wounds tangle and bloom

Trauma begets trauma until we change our thoughts, words and actions

Breaking old patterns even as we hold traction

I am love itself, I am the source of what I sought

My cup overflows, it was not all for naught

When the High Wears Off

You can drink and smoke and swallow

Sniff and huff and wallow

Burn it up, inject it in

But no amount of noise will silence the din

I hear the roar of your pain

I see the fire in your brain

Anxiety and depression rage

Fueling the words on this page

I’ve tried it all

I’ve had a ball

I’ve lived through hell

Just to tell

What I have learned

What I have earned

Highs are temporary

Where will I be

When my next high wears off

Highs always wear off…

After chasing many a transient high

Which only left me feeling low

I’m building upward toward the sky

Growing that inner glow

I’m creating a sense of safe space to come home to

After another long day of battling anxiety monsters and depression demons

My mental sanctuary is invisible, yet indispensable

It is my daily practice, my intention, my breath

My practice is to remind myself that I belong here

Even if I don’t believe it at first

I am worthy

Even if I don’t allow myself to receive at first

I am a person

Even though I’ve spent a lifetime of feeling lesser-than

Of feeling like I owed my life to strangers

I’ve survived so many dangers

I’m lucky

I’m ready

To start living

To feel beyond high

Cultivating a sustainable solution without bodily pollution

Emotional storms are best weathered while wearing a life vest

So I envelope my chest with positive visualizations

Letting my heart garden blossom and thrive

With this breath, I am alive

I am beyond high

Our Mother’s Face

We thought we could improve perfection, Mama

When we drew lines across your face

Highways of asphalt scars connecting the

Clusters of concrete wounds on your cheeks

High rise buildings offering every luxury but you, Mama

We dig into you without asking, Mama, pounding into your bedrock

Even as you gently rock us to sleep each night, as if our actions are alright

We are the ones who refuse to turn out the lights

We don’t hear your wisdom, Mama, which you sing softly even now

We boast loudly but when do we listen, Mama?

We are shaken to the bone when we drill into you, Mama

Between fracking and petroleum, our hearts are in pandemonium

We make ourselves ill when we poison your blood

Dumping debris into your waters

We choke as we pollute your lungs

Pouring smoke into your atmosphere

We share a single circulatory and respiratory system with you, Mama

Our shortsighted deeds will always come back to haunt us in spades

We drink from your abundant cup, rarely satisfied that we have enough

We pretend to be separate from you even as we depend on you for our every breath, from birth to death

We think we know best but we haven’t fooled the rest, only ourselves

We act big, but we are dust on your mighty shoulders, Mama

Our mother has the most gorgeous face

Deep blue-green eyes and a sparkling smile

Bathed in rich brown skin, holding the miracle of life itself within her

Her beauty cannot be improved by anything man-made

To thrive, she needs only to be loved by those she loves unconditionally, by us

This is her divine lesson of self-love

Caring for the Earth is caring for ourselves

We spring forth from the Earth’s womb, are nourished by her breast, and remain connected to her indefinitely by an unbreakable umbilical cord

Though we mistreat you, we love you and we need you, Mama

You are the only oasis in the vast desert of the universe

We feel calm and content when we are close to you, Mama

Words are not your language

We must show our love for you through actions

Spending quality time with you

Living simply and sustainably

Voting with every transaction

Passing legislation to protect you from destruction by our hands

We have injured you too many times in the name of profit Mama, which only robs ourselves of true wealth: clean air, water and soil

We can’t buy more of you in any store, Mama

When we hurt you, we hurt ourselves more

You wait patiently for us to learn, even as we pillage and burn

You demonstrate how to love more completely, Mama, but that does not excuse our transgressions

This Earth Day, may we pause for reflection on our self-centered predilection

May we hold you in the center of our heart, where you always belonged from the start

Though at times we get distracted, more of your children are treading softly on you each day, Mama

May I be one such child of the Earth, and help others so inspired do the same

Your health depends on what we do today

May we lift our faces to you and see our collective dream come true

What I Learned in College

What I learned in college:

I learned that suicide hurts forever in the hearts of those left behind.

I learned the sweetness of Spring after the darkest Winter night.

I learned, too late, not to drink too much alcohol on a date.

I learned, too late, that not using condoms can lead to more than AIDS.

I learned, the hard way, that HPV can cause cancer.

I learned that I am too generous to make a living as an exotic dancer.

I learned that even the finest meal doesn’t taste good when my body pays the bill.

I learned that slow and steady is my pace.

I learned that life is not a race.

I learned, through time, what friendship looks like.

I learned that self/spiritual love is the most important relationship in my life.

Dear Body

Dear Body,
I am sorry.
I am so sorry that I yet again knowingly harmed you and put you at risk.
I let a bare penis inside you, belonging to a man I barely knew.
Then I washed my morose down with several pints of ice cream.
I know damn well the risks of unprotected sex, and of ice cream.
And yet, and yet, how many times, body?
How many times will I humbly ask for your forgiveness.
Henceforth, body, may I treat you right.
Please body, forgive me tonight.
Sincerely,
Me

Warfare Fetish

I hurt myself
I commit acts of violence toward myself
I take a loaded gun- a bare cock, lock it into place,
Point it at my bulls-eye cervix
And fire away

Blast boom bam
Bedazzling fireworks are followed by smoke and tears
I burned myself in the crossfire for too many years
My body is the battlefield
The dust settles and the smoke clears
I know what I must do- get rid of this unhealthy relationship, drop that atomic break-up bomb on this unsuspecting man’s heart

Though he will complain of the grenade-like explosion I throw at him,
I am the one who picks up the pieces
I am the one who deals with pregnancy and gets an abortion
I am the one who feels the pain of picking out the bullet and the shrapnel shards- the little life growing inside my uterus

I’m sorry, little one
I’m so sorry
You didn’t get a fighting chance
I was fighting myself all along

I want peace for you, me and all beings
Finally, the dear doctor who provided my most recent abortion agreed to give me an IUD

I let out a sigh of relief, feeling supported by this safety net
I finally have control over my body and my future
No more pregnancy scares

I want to practice safer sex
With condoms every time
With printed STI results
That my partner and I exchange
Before we come close to swapping bodily fluids
I never want to have an abortion again

The next time I get pregnant, it will be because I want to, because I am ready, because my partner and I are committed to each other, and are committed to care for another little life.

After warring against myself for many years,
At last my love for myself has come along
May I take a break from singing this sad song-
May I stop getting my rocks off on harming myself
May I put my masochism back on the shelf.

May I no longer explore my fetish of warfare against myself.

Triggerfinger

I wish I wasn’t so easily trauma triggered
It doesn’t take much to push me out of touch with feeling safe
A slightly raised voice makes me lose all choice but to
freeze and collapse
The physiology of my stress response takes over
Though I try to stop it, my heart races, my pulse pounds, a heaviness crushes my chest, suffocating me, it feels like I can’t breathe
How long has it been since I last took a breath?
Now I make a conscious effort to unclamp my rusted-shut jaw from my tongue but the battle is not so easily won
Years later the everyday trauma tape continues to play on loop I feel like I’m still in those moments when I didn’t know what to say, the epic fail drags me down into a pit of mental battering and spirit shattering
‘Good enough’ remains just out of reach
I hold the tension in my body and the voices of my aggressors echo between my ears
I’m caught between anger and tears                                                                                Regretting the past and fearing the future
I worry that if I ever get married or have a baby, my ex-partners will come after me in fits of blind jealousy
The ex’s that have expressed ill-will and death-wishes to me,                                                the ones with guns, violent tendencies and criminal histories                                               God, will I live my whole life without ever feeling safe?                                                    Mental abuse is physical abuse: you can see it, feel it, measure it in my body                       It is detrimental to my health and wellbeing                                                                                    I meditate on being held in a sphere of protective light                                                          and pray that I won’t have nightmares again tonight                                                      Healing the mind is not easy                                                                                                               I am humbled at how quickly I slip into depression and anxiety                                           my constant companions of which I am never truly free                                                       The next time my trauma gets triggered, which will happen soon                                      May I relax the grip of my fingers and remember that I am held in safety                      even when it feels impossible to believe                                                                                          I find peace in remembering that not even my trauma,                                                      which seems to be at the very core of me                                                                                      Is mine to keep                                                                                                                                   All things end eventually