Tonight I hit the weight I haven’t been since high school.
Why do I feel my skin sag at the weight of a hundred stones?
I bask in the sun as my toddler declares himself king on top of a mound of snow,
I hollow myself out and crawl in further within myself,
to make mountains out of my frail shoulders,
a wall to guard against the biting wind.
A week ago I could have told you my heart could break no further,
that loneliness was as familiar to me as breathing air.
No longing or craving could touch this vault I’ve built with my own two hands,
my heart is an impenetrable fortress.
I laugh at all the men who gather their forces and attempt to strike,
whose cunning and confidence convinces them they could out-flank my defences,
lay siege on my body and catch me unaware,
none of them know my trauma is an endless blockade –
no amount of assault or bombing can render me in defeat –
lost and unconscious with lust and desire.
Yet here I am, once again.
You told me once, that women have all the power.
I’ll let the irony of that statement hang dryly in the air,
let the meaning condense and solidify into something thick and porous,
some lecherous, disgusting, slithering thing you can no longer ignore.
I unpacked my belongings when I got home and drowned them in bleach,
until even my most beautiful possessions flaked and withered free from all colour.
The rest I gathered in your name,
and suffocated each one
in fire.
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