perhaps a poem. (maybe a recipe)

how does a human find herself after surviving s*xual abuse…?

this little girl turned goddess turned to playing with vibrant

globs of cadmium orange, melting paraffin wax somersaulting in lava lamps, too hot to hold.

draw yourself until you can gaze (lovingly) at your own reflection, please

don’t shatter the mirror. shatter the generational curse. frame your silhouette. cry

and laugh

with your oversized dogs, spinning in circles in the itchy, overgrown grass

dizzy after you stayed up all night to the pulsating techno bass-line, drinking hot chocolate and accumulating noise complaints.

if i can do it, so can you—okay?