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End to Beginning
I was told my voice didn’t matter in a jungle of lions
That my efforts were child’s play and I should go sit with the little kids
That if I ever wanted to own anything, I should call myself the ruler of nothing
And for a while
I listened
I played by the rules given by the older man in a fancy suit
Stayed quiet and controlled the need to scream so perfectly he actually believed I enjoyed it
You see when the man in the suit says
“ you are so beautiful when you are silent”
You find ways to be loud in school, in your group of friends, anything to be heard but not given attention
A perfect complex sentence all formulated in efforts to be everything he does not like
I constantly have a headache even in my best moments
And I wonder if it’s the girl sitting with the little kids
Or the woman having a conversation with the lions hoping they wouldn't get hungry
After 10 years of this headache, I am not sure which one is louder than the other
There is some type of irony in finding peace in static
How perfect it would be
to be hated instead of loved
A mist of sound waiting to be an actual voice
I attempted to be a voice for myself
even when his hand wrapped around my neck and I was left without one
He told me with the most sincere face I’ve ever seen a lion have and said “ I will teach you how to deal with being voiceless”
The knowing fact his actions were wrong in which I was too young to understand that people do things they know they aren’t supposed to
He taught me to self-harm in the best of ways that I would later do without being caught
His methods... I listened
And for a while, I played by his rules
Until I didn’t want to be a little girl sitting with the little kids
I wanted to be a woman who didn’t fear sitting in a room filled with lions
In my first attempt
I told myself to cry
and to allow myself to feel these emotions of betrayal, anger, depression,
In short words... it was a mess
My second attempt was accidental
I woke up in the middle of the night crying uncontrollably and in instinct, I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen
And in the dark, I began to write my anger, my pain, my disgust for myself
And before I realized I was writing words on top of each other
I stopped writing, starred at the wall with my tears drying faster than they came down
And I realized
I will be okay