the water lies still
disturbed only by the beats || of my pounding heart
I was tufting a rug when thoughts of my recent assault invaded, which led me to scribble furious haiku, scream into a pillow, repeatedly punch a couch cushion Charlie held for me, wail on the guitar, and then land right here to share haiku. I am trying to channel my rage as best as I can.
My journal is littered with so many iterations of the first haiku in this set. Over days and days I tried to find a way to capture my pain, my anger. I just so badly wanted to make sense of what happened, but the lesson is that perhaps I cannot, and I need to find a way to live with that.
Below are a selection of the haiku handwritten in my travel journal or scrawled on loose scratch paper in the aftermath. They are not in the order that I wrote them, but they are in the order that makes sense for me to share them in.
tore his hands off me
what the fuck did i just say?
i spat out, seething
-
eyes looked me over
hungry, like i was nothing
but a midnight snack
-
i’d claw out the eyes
that looked on me hungrily
roast them on a spit
-
white splotches hover
in blackness of closed eyelids
manufactured light
-
fatigue descending
in the marrow of my bones
brings me to stillness
-
sleep proves elusive
my second leg made restless
prickling anxiety
-
grateful to have met
a benign australian
after the assault
-
i thought i might weep
as she palpated lymph nodes
pushed blood to heart
-
how healing—safe touch
in contrast to the man who
took what he wanted
-
wish i could take you
by the hands, one at a time
say thank you, thank you
-
needed detachment
a few moments of respite
from the world outside
-
i am far stronger
than i have ever given
myself credit for
