(𝕷𝖆𝖒𝖇)

As I’ve grown I’ve gained a wisdom and power that only the meek have access to. Something about me is dark and immense like the ocean. Like a quiet hell unlocked by raw love. I know the things I’ve endured have made me terrifying in some intense, inwards way. But I’m often unable and quiet, and it betrays something about me. I don’t want to depend on you fully. I don’t think I’m worthless. I think I’m precious and strange because the fact was beaten into me all my life, I was a thing that was coveted while simultaneously being discarded and disgusting. I don’t know. It’s not..it’s not that I want to abandon myself for you. It’s not that I think I’m useless and weak. But I’m not like a person and I am like a creature. I have so much love and it’s only been made bigger after the constant strife and agony. I can love you and I want to. Doesn’t that sound like the ideal pet..?

Pray. With eyes open.

Imagine your body is growing. Imagine you resist this growth. Imagine how damaging to your body and bones that must be. Your body wants to expand and you press yourself tight, anything poking out you push back in. You want to remain in a state of contraction. It doesn't hurt at first. What happens eventually is that your body either gives up, accepting the fate you've forced upon it, or it will ignore your desire to remain small and grow anyway. Because it must. Because it knows better than to give in to stagnancy. When you resist your growth, my bones ache. I want to be you, and push against your fear and break it, so that you expand. You hold your spirit tight in your hands like a firefly whose light can't be contained. I want you to grow. When you are with me- close to me- growth is inevitable. I am the moon to the world's werewolf no matter what I do. This is what I am, it's what happens. I'm not afraid, nor do I regret being this way. But it is a harsh thing. There is no space for cowardice. Transformation is often painful, but so are many things in life, and your fear of it isn't a reflection of its nature. I love you and want to guide you through this. Your power is a light I want to witness. If you nurture your strength, you'll grow closer to what you are, and this is what we are meant to do. It's what I want for you. Listen. Stillness is for the dead. We are alive and moving. What contracts must expand and what expands must contract and this is living. Do you understand? If you refuse to grow, I will leave. I can't stay. It hurts me. It huts my bones, beloved.

Do you fear not being good enough? I fear rejection. Rejection doesn’t have to be painful. But it is. Right now, it is. I have a bond with pain. You are trying to love yourself aren’t you? I am trying to sever.

Do you know this, too? That hurt and pain are not always the same? The lady tells me to grab one weight in each hand. I get to fifteen and start to get tired. When I reach twenty- she asks me to do twenty every time- I hold it for a few seconds before finally dropping my arms. Nobody told me to do that, but I like to. Because it's a challenge. Because I'm excited to push myself to grow and heal. Because pain can feel so good. Okay, here, here's the little poem I am meaning to write: It's not the sting I like but the ache. Not the strike of four fingers but the ache in the bruise a punch leaves you. Not the defeat, but the battle that leads to it. Here: I don't want you to hit me. I want you to fight me. Teach me to know you. Teach me to see you move before you have, And tell me like I know you will-- "Punch me like you're going through me. I'm water." You once said you were from the ocean. I'll throw my arm into you; and water- water is just a serpent. I'll have become the branch you coil around-- I'll have become the body that falls into the sea, and in her Grace she opens a space for me, makes way for me, and envelops me, embraces me-- I throw my right arm into you. You dodge left. Down. Right. Up. I'm lost somewhere in the shock of your speed, and I forget to retract my arm. You have made space for me, coiled around me- "You are very close to me." I whisper. "Yes, I am." you say. You hug me, and you tell me, "Let's keep practicing." before getting into position again. -and embraced me in all your grace.