The end of grief.A. A.

 What is true.

What did I used to pretend.

Everything is fine but it wasn’t.

Now my life I’ve made it fine. I’ve made it normal.

I don’t have to pretend. 

What does it look like? Violet rabbits. 

My bracelet some mushrooms. My butthole loose my back not tight.

Live it do it as myself every day until it’s normal.

Is normal now. Stretch it like leather. I am new. 

Beeswax for blisters. Plaster it. 

No one’s making fun of me anymore. That family is gone. The eyes are gone behind my neck. Why slouch?

And even if they were there would I care?

The dead cannot love me. The bandana on my neck was a gesture of love at age 13.

From mom.

At what point does the love for myself come from me?

I do not need that type of all consuming protection anymore.

Arminta March to protection house.

Money from mom. House. 

Neck warm mom. House.

Mom.

I am a mom. 

I am her. No I am me from her.

Long lived but not gone. She is gone.

Buying my own flannel.

Not waiting for the dead to love me.

They cannot.

Those who do not love cannot love me.

Dads eye is my eye.

He tried too hard and got too far.

Success was too important to him to have a family.

Keep working.

I was born resting.

Slow and tired yellow and orange

The glowing sun

Sleepy quite warm just fine.

Nothing needed but love.

I used to not have clothes

I used to not have soap

Food

I had mom

Then the bullocks and school

She died.

I watched her.

She looked up what gay women wear she bought me clothes.

I held on to those clothes forever.

The closet I kept the same clothes she gave me were all that mattered.

Construction boots.

Let it go. She lived life as a normal person of the living and I stood still.

Why could I not see it?

Why did I stay in such a family?

I will only stay where I feel loved. As me.

Somewhere she’s cheering.

Good god. Finally.

Out of no into yes.

No more Christian minister family.

No more eating from a grocery bag on the floor cold cheese and crackers.

Cream pesto pasta over the sea on a dock.

The seals and Christine. 

Trips epic and wonderful.

Forests to run under my feet cushy and springing

Fertile.

Time is freedom.

No repression.

And what does that look like? It looks like right now.

In my body my voice.

Caring and growing.

Pride flag is my own.

There wasn’t anything wrong muscles contracted because everyone was an asshole.

No fear. Keep my body clear. Holes open.

Holes open.

Body centered. Holes. 

Fertility of being Ness

This takes no money.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++dissecting period brain. Ideas. Contrast. The end of grief.

I was hated. Now I am free.