Upon the 34th Anniversary of My Arrival
Twelve thousand, forty-five days
perfecting the art of
w a l k i n g on e g g s h e l l s
around someone who disowned me
three times
through text and email.
Three hundred ninety-six months
placating a woman
who would abandon her child
with near-strangers in a place
seventeen hundred miles
away from normalcy.
Three decades
living on edge,
startled by loud noises
and careful to make myself
small
and contained.
But this year
I wanted something different:
Permission to empty my world
of the people and things
reluctantly hoarded
out of guilt
or shame.
To make space to breathe,
to find my voice,
to find myself
buried long ago
in the crushed dreams
and abandoned pursuits
of a love-starved little girl.
To find what sets my soul aflame…
To know what my laughter sounds like…
For my thirty-fourth birthday
I laid my past to rest,
and launched a mission to rescue myself.
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