On Healing

from by KiNG

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Dedicated to every sexual assault victim who is unraveling deep woundings

lyrics

I have written
one poem
about my rape
and it is the only
3 minutes I give
myself the grace
to be a victim

Have not spoken
about the healing
3 years later
because I am still
waiting for it to arrive

Still waiting for my
body to make a flood
of itself and cleanse
him from me but
He is always
here with me
because
he is the reason
I found this stage
so, how can I
be mad right?

Just like
how can
ugly girl
Turned
pretty girl
be mad for
finally being
wanted
by unwanted
teeth?

So I
Pretty girl
stay mad at myself
for protecting
heavy handed boy
The only poem I've
written about that night
is the one about
my mother
blaming me
the morning after

So I hang on a cross
Play a good Christ
like boy always
wanted me to
Listen as everyone
calls it wisdom or
selflessness
or whatever the fuck
sounds good that day

Most nights,
I sip from
a goblet
of grief
rename it
communion
But it's really a
wound healing
and reopening

So this is the poem
where I'm going
to be the victim
Where I say
I still don't got
my shit figured out
That I still fuck
instead of make love
And I almost loved
an Oakland man once
But was so scared
of how his flesh
could burn against
a pillar of ash
So I made up excuses
but truth is,
I'm terrified of
making someone
as broken as me
Truth is
I'm terrified
of being like
the man who
broke me

And I am still a
healer somehow
in all of this
But no one seems
to ask the prophet if
she is tired of being
used to only give hope
to everyone but herself

I am trying to
give myself hope
but sometimes
It's just me
Ignoring the same
Oakland man who
asks if I'm being
patient with myself
because I know
I am not being
patient
with myself

Jenny begs me
in a therapy session
to name my
uncomfortable
feelings but it feels
too much like boy
moving inside me
uncomfortably
so sometimes
I tell myself
to stop being the victim
meaning 2013
never happened
meaning I can forget
My mother calling me
an open door to violence

I blame myself every day
then call it baptism
in a desert
because healing
is a dull knife
and my hands
get tired of carving
So instead
I tattoo my whole body
Call it a meditation on grief
Wrap myself in "don't you
dare fucking touch me cuz
can't you tell I know how
to make pain permanent?"

This morning
I crawled out of bed
Wanted to flood my
bathroom and say
he finally left me
Realized I couldn't
call my own mother
cuz she's just a
voice mail now
Realized I am more
woman than I have
ever wanted to be
Realized that womanhood
Means learning to survive
A witch hunt into morning
I never let myself rest
I never let myself cry
Just keep fighting
bloodhounds
unleashed
against my skin
And I keep running
I keep running
The only solace
I find in this is
that my feet
still don't tire
And I guess
this has to
mean something
today.

credits

from B A P T I S M, released August 15, 2016
Produced By: Billy Burke, Amanda Lipski, and KiNG
Written By: KiNG
Violin By: Amanda Lipski

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KiNG Los Angeles, California

Los Angeles. 22. Petty Ass Poet. Community Builder. Intellectually Ratchet. Perpetually "in my feelings."

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