Ghosts

the sun entered scorpio. and one of my ghosts came tapping at my consciousness again that night. the message: the unseen will be illuminated. hidden truths exposed, the darkness ripped forward to the light. healing, growth, expansion, mystery, death. if you can make it. withstand it.

he is there often, waiting in the shadows, and I want it illuminated. how can I not be forever changed?

my body will forever bare the scars. and so will my heart.

my voicebox remembers being forced shut.

my breath remembers slowing.

do these pains, these truths, these ugly hidden ghosts, lose their power when illuminated? when spoken?
can the collective pain of women start to heal when we say it out loud?
will it be so loud it drowns everything else out?

these atrocities, these crimes against our soft bodies, they bury in our cells and fester there. necrosis.

we put on a brave face, we say, be strong! and in this, though good intentions, the pain and anguish rots.

it eats us alive.

day of the dead comes and goes, the leaves turn and fall.

darkness comes. the ghosts are all around, walking amongst us. screaming in our dreams, wagging their angry fingers.

we are all a little broken. a little written by our traumas.

the winter solstice approaches. here you are again, darkness. anxiety takes your shape.
as the longest, darkest night comes, I hold you. i will be gentle with you, i will be gentle with her.
i acknowledge what you are. i will hold myself in wholeness. part light, part dark. part love and fear.
part beast, beauty, witch, mother, child. part primal scream, so to cleanse.

Dedicated to every woman who has been hurt by someone supposed to love them, and an invitation to scream, and to heal.

**These beautiful photos are not my art**

Poetry