Moving Through Heartbreak
i am a woman undone.
disfigured
a porcelain doll
shattered
held together by
glue and string
call them my sisters
the only thing
strong enough to
re-member me
the only thing delicate
enough for my fragile
I have not written many poems about this ache. Choosing, instead, to sit still. Examine. How ugly heartbreak is. Until you open your wounds. Until you dig. And feel. It is painful to finger this gash. To sit in your absence. To sit with my acceptance of it. To find myself covered in filth and not look away. So full is this well. It’s scary to jump in and learn these waters. Give them names. What might they name me? But how else are we to cleanse ourselves? If not by showering in truth.
I think my heart has gushed enough of itself. Heartbreak is painful, but when I look back at it I don’t regret the choice I made to leave you. I am seeing the various ways you destroyed the confidence I had in my intuition. The ways you took my magic for granted. I was silly with anger for forgetting myself. For forgetting my worth. My power. I may not forgive you for tearing my heart in two, but I do forgive myself for my naivete. You were a valuable and timely lesson, and I am a woman who learns quickly.
Remember, Nereyda, your heart is golden and can’t be jaded
Remember, that actions speak louder than words
That potential is nothing but a dream
That you are brilliant and deserve the world
Don't Judge me for my desperate attempts at turning love into poetry. How damned this venture-
Writing the music of my heart on paper. But I had to try and explain the feeling of falling to my Self. Don’t judge me. For I am just a breath learning what it means to fall. Learning to surrender to the fact that the process is perpetual. I am always falling. I’ve tried to write this story too many times. At first, I thought it was a tale of tragedy. A girl with a broken heart. Then, I thought it was one of anger. A story of redemption. But the longer I sit, the more look at the “ugly” of this break in my heart, the beautiful it becomes. These jagged edges, now soft. Grief does not escape us. It just gets easier to hold. You are small now, Grief. And I feel weightless, fearless, in the arms of comfort and my loves. I am no longer a woman undone. I am a woman perpetually unfurling into herself. I am a woman submerged in love. And I am not drowning.
I have sung to my wounds. Opened them wide with melody and cacophony. Lulled them closed with song of spirit. Turned them into something delicate. What a stunning garden I’ve made of myself. It is so beautiful to find myself in the sunset, the seagulls playing in the wind, the world around me. To know that I am growing. I am moving through this heartbreak, not just getting over it.
My sisters who hold my heart without condition, thank you. For blessing me with your light. For constantly reminding me of mine. For not being scared of my wounds even when I was. How vital my sisters are. I have shed myself with you. Stripped myself naked and looked in the mirror. I sang joy and love into my reflection. Bathed in the magic of moringa leaf and passion flower. Slipped the weight on my chest right off. Born anew. The best lesson I continue to receive-
Just breathe
Just breathe.
Just breathe.
Just breathe.
Just breathe.
Thank you to my loves for holding me so tenderly. I will keep trying, and failing, to find the words to accurately convey the feeling of your embrace: love/freedom/falling/weightlessness/recognition/goodness. Ultimately, I am just happy we are in each other's orbits reflecting our light to one another.
