My heart yearns for the truth from the witches burned

The knowledge they held that put such fear into ordinary men,

Fear that burned so hot they felt they had to make an example of such a woman

I want to hear the scientific breakthroughs and of all the people they healed, instead of hurt

The babies born that would have died due to their knowledge and herbal remedies.

Mothers comforted with tonics and tinctures to take pain away

Mothers that would be forever grateful but condemn them in the same breath

I want an accurate telling of their stories

You see the “history” told of them is most likely more fiction than fact

It was written down by unreliable narrators with hate in their hearts and pitchforks in their hands

For these women were burned and drowned not for being witches

But for being more than something you could control

For loving nature instead of a singular god.

I wish I knew their stories

But I know their hearts

For my ancestor was one of them

And I inherited her fire

Trying not to be triggered when it happens is like trying not to get stung in a swarm of bees whilst screaming and flailing your arms

It comes at you all at once

Without a fucking warning

And it attacks relentlessly

Like Ghost Face in Scream

All of a sudden freeze response takes over

I can't move

Ugly memories flood what could have been a pleasant next thought

Memories made of poison

Spreading throughout my body

It burns

It burns

Like a hot knife carving over a fresh bruise

Pushing further and further in

Yet not drawing blood

And I wait

For this sickening moment to pass

For it to no longer feel like my insides are exposed for the world to see

Inside out

Upside down

Naked

Burnt hot from seething rage

The shaking starts

Nausea creeps its ugly head

Always

Cold water splashes through the inferno

Thoughts spiralling

Running a million miles a minute

Heart follows like an impatient petulant little sister

“You have to Breathe” my therapist once said

“This is temporary, this will pass” yeah yeah

Bull shit

"Breathe in

breathe out"

Fingertip traces my hand as I

breathe in

and out

Write words on my legs with numb digits

Until my hands ache

There’s no one way to cope with it

It's going to take me this time

Wearing my comfort robe

I get in my bed

Put on HGTV

Drink cold cold ice cold water

The cold surrounds me now

Into the blankets I go

I’m inside myself again

Nothing else exists

Just here and now

My personal cocoon of dissociation

Locked away from the world full of want and need

No longer exposed, no more breathing heavily

My heart calmly beats

I don't belong to my memories

The nausea is churning in my gut

Palms are sweaty as the memories are taking over

Pain is more prevalent throughout my body

Your face presents itself as I'm eating my shepherds pie

Suddenly hunger has left and I'm racing to the bathroom

A part of me knows

I know you loved me the way you could

but still

You had control of me like a marionette on many strings

Pulling whichever one you wanted, whenever it felt right for you

I danced for you, moved to the beat of your command

You said faster, I plastered a smile on my doll-like face and spun again and again

Until up was down and yesterday was tomorrow

The wolves were hungry and you decided I would be an easy meal

So I was thrown to them

Had to smile

Sit pretty on laps I did and didn't know

Stare absently while hands roamed where they weren't warranted

There are good memories

Of cuddling with you

You brushing my hair

Having oatmeal in the morning and you make it special with toast just for me

It felt like you loved me more than anything

But you knew who he was

You prepared me for him

Lured me into his twisted fucked up trap

Where he was primed and ready to steal every part of me I have never found again

A nanny is supposed to love

Protect and nurture

Not sell to the highest bidder

And yet

I miss you

Happy Birthday Nanny

Looking up I see

A little smile with big eyes staring at me

The pain hits

Taking over the glee

Flooded with memories of little hands and feet

I watch as those feet carry them unstable

Little hands grip anywhere they can to lift

Little bodies defy them

Keeping grounded

When all that's wanted is to climb

Mommy comes to the rescue

Sweeps them up and kisses their chubby cherub cheeks

That heavenly giggle is like a knife slicing right through me

Smile brightens as they are placed on the next platform

Dance a little on the spot before trotting on

My chest tightens

Breath hitches

Emotions caught in my throat

Threatening to let loose tears from these traitorous eyes

I look away swiftly

This is not a possibility

Holding tiny hands and chasing little feet

Only a past of fragmented memories

That time has come and gone

All that's left is the pain

The choice that was laid

A body that betrayed

The aching emptiness ever present

This ominous void more apparent

I miss the womb that once nurtured life

I miss the possibility

I don't miss the loss after loss after loss

The bleeding

The pain

The agony

Maybe One was all that was meant for me

And that can be enough

It has to be.

Shut her up

She's being too loud when I lay my hands on her

Supposed to just take it like a good girl

Not cry and throw up

Ruining my trousers

It's not fair

We can't be expected to control ourselves

After all we're just animals with basic needs

We have testosterone and need to let it out!

We weren't taught how to keep our hands to ourselves

That bitch is crazy!

It was her fault!

She asked for it!

Wore this

Said that

She's a whore!

Not me

She got pregnant from the priest

Her

Her

HER

LOOK AT HER

She is Nothing, No one

Lock. Her. Up

Throw her in the asylum

Throw away the key

Burn her

Starve her

Forget her existence

Because her story threatens my power

But I'm an excellent liar

And they will listen to me

For I have the money

I own her

and there's nothing she can do about it

So she will rot

************ This poem is inspired by the men who used to lock up their female family members in asylums in Ireland for hysteria without any sort of official examinations. The asylums would be paid for these women residing there and then pocket the money leaving the women in deplorable conditions, next to no clothing, very little food and dirty water. Many women spent their entire lives in these institutions, never to be heard from again. *************

Sometimes I can’t speak

The words get caught in my throat

My voice becomes meek

He’s looking at me

She’s looking at me

Expectantly.

I can’t get the words out

They have failed me

I feel stupid

I have failed them

Please don’t look at me like that

Don’t walk away

I know my thought was important to share

Sometimes my brain just doesn’t play fair

Thoughts form

Powerful and necessary

I’m confident in what I’m going to say

My voice doesn’t get the message

And the words

Die on my tongue

Lost to the labyrinth

My head an endless wealth of knowledge

My mouth an anxiety ridden idiot

At home

One lie

They ask you to tell

It begins so small

Tiny

Insignificant

You barely notice it at all

Don't miss the pieces it strips from your soul

It lays dormant

Until the day it decides to wake

It's hungry for you to feed

To get its cheap thrill

It escapes your treacherous mouth

It yearns for more

Will you give in?

It's just so easy isn't it?

They always believe your innocent little voice

Slip one in here and slide another there... no one will notice right?

And at school!

Look! they're paying attention to you!

Those who never looked twice, looking now

They're hanging on your every word

They flow so freely

The words sound so sweet dripping from your tongue

The lies don't hurt anyone

Not really

You're just giving them a grand story of a life you've never lived

But wish you had

You don't know the truth anyway

It all blends together

It's not your fault though

You were never taught lying is wrong

They had you lying the minute you learned words

Hiding secrets, acts committed in dark quiet places

"Playing games" not hurting you to the point of madness when you grow up

How are you to know the truth will out

Would it set you free?

Most likely not

How are you to know there is no Love in a Lie

Because everyone who "loved" you lied

And they still don't believe your truth

Yet they knew the whole time

Courage

It means courage

Is that why purple is the colour used for those of us who see both sides?

Who love in both black and white, blue and pink

We love souls and not genders

Is it courageous that we walk on that thin blurred line

That never seems to quite make sense to anyone else

My family would not understand

Or even accept me for being who I am

So they do not know

Not out of fear

Because they do not deserve to know the real me

They get my mask

The one I cultivated for years while they were molding me into their perfect pet

My found family and the one I've worked hard to build and love

They get me

Maybe I'm not courageous

Maybe keeping this half of myself under lock and key is cowardice

But not all of us need to "come out" or live life in bold colours

I'm happy with my purple heart that I share with others like me

We get it

We cherish it

And it's all love

The sickness finds me in those vulnerable moments

Usually when I'm most content

Prepares to attack

Claws at my skin, my stomach, every inch of me

Until it takes hold

I fold

I can't

Every time I try to better myself, my life

Medicate

Meditate

Eat Healthy

Balance my mental health

Decrease the stress

The sickness pounces

Has me in the clutches of its jaws

Teeth sunk so deep, wraps around and embraces me in the excruciating way a serpent would its prey.

I'm fine

I'm okay

I can get up

But not today

The room is spinning

Everything blurs

Light hurts

Food doesn't stay down

Turns into acid and led in my stomach

Needs to get out!

All I want is to sleep

My body won't let me though

Every part of it betrays me

All I can do is hope

Tomorrow will call off the attack

So I can get back to being a person again

When there's a duality of self, self seems harder to reach. Even harder still when self becomes lost in everyone else.

Once I became a mother and a wife, whoever I was disappeared. I became a title, and expectation, a concept of something I didn't know how to mold myself into.

Why do little pieces of us chip off more and more the more we place on our plate?

Why do I crave freedom and possibility when I finally have comfort and stability?

Am I wired the wrong way? It feels like it sometimes-- most times really.

Other women enjoy being married, having kids, being needed and comforted. I should enjoy that. I should want that. It's what I have so it can't change now.

Focusing on the love for my daughter is the best way to get through.

She is my absolute reason for breath. If I were to leave this world it would break her. I will do everything in my power to stay. But sometimes the invasive thoughts win out and I succumb to the hazy darkness, the part of me more prevalent than the light. Sometimes I believe she and they would be better off without me. But then she smiles and hugs me and calls me mama in the brightest way, like I'm her entire world. I am her entire world, so that's why who I am doesn't quite matter the same way it used to.

I have to help shape who she will be in this unforgiving world

She will be better than me

She will not have to learn how to love because she will know what love is.

She will not go looking for love everywhere else because it will always be found at home

She will be kind but firm and will not let people walk all over her but will not be entitled

She will not wonder if her mother loved her or if she was just a pawn in some scheme

So I guess who I am is her mama and for now that is exactly who I need to be and I need it to be enough.

Because if it's not enough I fear I might leave and break everyone's hearts entirely.