I feel it rising in me
the waves churning, I ride
watching tides turning.
Desecration can be beautiful
if the fires burn everything. Just let it sting.
It’s more than worth the pain it brings.
I never claimed to be wise or knowing,
I’m just another human, who is focused on growing.
I’ve made mistakes.
I’ve said shitty things.
I’ve been different people.
I didn’t want wings.
‘You’re not really broken.’ I said to myself
‘Your pieces click when they fit together,
it’s overwhelming, but you’ll see, it’s better.’
The looser parts slipped out and into the wind,
exploding with light, breaking before they could bend.
I reach for them, even as I
decide to let go, thin whisps of attachment,
each one screaming ‘no!’
I’m a sentimental soul, I always think with my heart.
I start things before they’ve started
and when they end, I fall apart.
So those waves rising are carrying back to myself
with no help but mine
a sign, however painful,
that I need to rewind, loosen knots and unbind.
Some things aren’t mine to carry, so I
burn them and throw the ashes in the air
as I bare everything slowly and with great care.
For my fragile younger self, for each salty tear.
Because of every vile untruth she can never unhear.
Her aorta, along with other gears and small parts,
I keep safely locked away, far
from malicious snark. As I’ve embarked,
on this quest to what is best for me,
I’ve learned what silence is and tried to
make the most of things.
So f^*# it all, including what you think.
Your judgement carries a stink, but I don’t even blink.
Because this pain rewired my brain,
circuits and connections removed easier than a stain.
Because no matter what they claim, I am powerful.
And in NO need of any shame.
SHANNON MASTROMONICO was born and raised in Montreal. She has been writing poetry/creating art for over twenty years and is an alumni of the Dawson college photography program.
Copyright © 2018 by Shannon Mastromonico. All rights reserved.