Spinning Through the Danger

The air hot and heavy, reminds me of the panic that once held me in its arms. My toe touches the floor, my body swings its weight towards the other, as I spin in endless bliss. I spin to forget that men have pressed their weight upon my body, upon my brain, and threw me into a closet of deep regret. Every day I think of the night of the pink ever-glow. I see blond hair, sparkles, my black dress; all tarnished and lacking. I was date raped and I thought that it was beautiful. The light shone pink, the smell of danger flew from my brain, my body was an open temple full of longing and loneliness. The beauty went away, I awoke to darkness, a throbbing head, a man who had convinced me I loved him, and faltering memories that seemed more like dreams than events. Men had always defined me. I sometimes think that they still do. I remember walking back, five loose singles in my bag, a fake peck, so many burdens to carry. How can you explain why everything went to shit in a resume? I know I dropped that class but I could barely handle sleeping. I once sat with this man on a beautiful patio, drinking wine as he stared through my skirt. Nobody teaches you how to value your self-worth. I resorted to seek something: ended up in a church. I hid in that church for a long time. I still don’t understand my relationship to it. I found loving people at the expense of losing my ability to see. Months went by: my body grew as my relationship to food became more co-dependent. At some point I switched food with cigarettes. I found more men who touched me. Some deeply, some superficially. I think a lot now about who I am and who I want to be and it saddens me to see that the young girl with all her dreams has flown away. I think of rational career choices, I panic at the thought of a slim resume, and every day I keep my opinions to myself. Anything that I say will never be more than superficial. I think back to the old days before I lost my innocence: the world was beautiful then. Now I fail to see the flowers and focus on the discomfort of heat. I hide under layers of personalities, there is no me. I have lost myself and taken people’s opinions to heart. But at least I still spin.

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