i am not broken. i am not damaged. i have been changed, due to trauma, and i can be changed in other, better directions if i work at it.
i am allowed to change. i am a river. i am changing course because that’s what rivers do.
i am not disgusting. i am different.
i am not responsible for you. and you are not responsible for me.
i do not need a modern horoscope like a myers-briggs test to tell me that i am not like you. we are not the same. nobody is the same. one twin is outgoing. both twins change.
maybe today i feel like a doll with its legs splayed at impossible angles. maybe today i feel like the hollows under my eyes. maybe today i feel like an empty hand. maybe yesterday i was doing pretty well but i picked it back up again today. maybe today i feel like nothing can ever change. but it always does. it always gets better.
maybe today i was going to kill myself, but then i found this half-written prose-poem about how i am a river and i remembered my banks and my reeds and how i will look next week when i can see the sun.
maybe today i feel like scribbles on a page.
but i am not the things i think i am.