there once was: a probability, and a most definitely, part – #6

a couplely years. retreating. hiding. wondering.

and blaming.

him.

and everything that he was and is.

and still blaming.

and all this unfolding and processing and assessing was too …

figure out, why i still blame.

because i felt unheard then?

and still feel unheard now?

had i tried enough?

screamed enough? to be heard?

do i still?

we didn’t understand pts(d) then.

and i sure as fuck have trouble understanding it now.

there are things that have happened that i am grateful for:

for instance …

all this bullshit tipped me over the edge.

an edge that i had been teetering on for fat too fucking long.

and does all this help me find my voice?

Yup.

a big fat screaming voice.

one that takes no shit from it anymore.

but.

this was an exercising in letting all that poison out.

all the things that I’ve held on too,

held against.

either i let it go.

or keep juggling the pain.

it aint good for me.

never mind whats good for it.

that feeling of not being heard …

well i’ve practiced being heard here.

and i’m getting pretty skilled at it  now.

tick -one.

Now to duplicate else where.

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