soppy

I will let every heartache and disgust and anger alchemise within me and soften over time. I will not squash the bugs on the sidewalk. I will cover my love in a blanket when she falls asleep, I will bake and eat it, I will watch the leaves turn over and over again and find solace. Anger is good sometimes, and often well deserved, but I will not let it consume me. And one day I will wake up and realise I haven’t thought about what he did to me in weeks. It will become lighter. It will soften again, it will sweeten. I believe that day will come.

sometimes I can’t believe what my life is now. How many metamorphosis I’ve had to endure to get here. How many lives I’ve lived to get to this point. In love. In heaven. Calm, quiet, healing, noticing things. The future will contain a hundred more versions of myself I’m sure. But I like this one. She is good. She is enough. She is loved. My hair is healing from years of bleach. My skin is healthier. I nourish myself without guilt. I no longer use alcohol to numb myself or to cope. I am so happy to be her.

I am so glad to be a woman. To see the nuances in life, the feelings felt by others, to be aware of emotions other than my own. To be a man is to be one, to be a woman is to be the whole world.