#impossoufle

[impossoufle-blog]

A classic case of growing up too fast

I 
Am a manifestation 
Of manipulation and abuse
Of 17 raping 14 
Of silence and shame Of doubt and rage
Of teenage birthmothers and deadbeat fathers 
Of drugs and alcohol 
Of Depression and anorexia 
Of self harm and long sleeves 
Of suicide and inch wide scars
Of a never ending battle between my head and my heart Of a figure more gruesome Than hades rising above my head But there is love 
Sprouting from purring bundles of fur along my stomach at 4 am 
But there is love,
In the arms supporting me when I succumb to the memories 
There is love
In a stranger opening the door 
There is love 
for the man who told the bus driver to wait 
So I could pick up my painting from the street 
There is love 
Baking in the oven of summertime pools and coolers
There is love
Bubbling in the moment when the first three chords to a song you didn’t even know you were waiting for reverberate in your earbuds 
There is love
Tattooed across this wrist of 4 tries 
There is love
Woven into the fabric of week long service trips wrapped around my ankle, reminding me every single day that yes, it really could have been worse 
There is love
Pulling through curls of red 
There is always love.
There can never not be love
Because the vines of love they grow
No
They erupt
from me and
I swear I will live