The things I lost
Are vast.
Difficult to name,
Harder to think about
Without anger bubbling up the well in my chest
-
Whole years are smoke.
Memories, good and bad,
Swirling into empty space,
No matter how hard I try to hold onto them.
-
What memories I have of those years
are singed-
some too damaged to look at
And see anything but flame,
Or feel it burning
-
Beyond those, the years of terror;
sleepless nights,
screaming awake,
My cat won't sleep on my bed anymore because I startle him so often
-
Regular panic attacks,
becoming familiar with every bathroom
and gentle corner of our highschool,
And every workplace
-
I lost a healthy relationship with my own body;
The years I tried to cut and starve the hatred out
-
I lost relationships
The ability to feel safe in my own skin
To trust anyone fully,
-
To wear pajamas.
-
A first kiss
One that makes you the good kind of nauseous
-
I nearly lost my life
For the sixth time last year
-
What hurts the most
Is to think of who I might have been
If this hadn't happened to me.
A person my family will never get to know. 
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But what survived,
Born from ash and soot
And crumbling remains;
-
Is who I am today.
-
Imperfect, but growing,
And full of life,
And so much love,
And a working understanding of the words
Peace, and even forgiveness.
-
Though, I may not have mastered them yet.
-
And most of all,
And after years and years of fighting for it;
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A future that I want to be a part of.
-
One that's bright, because goddamnit, I'm gonna make it bright.
And built with the people I love,
And with my own two hands,
That maybe I'll learn to love someday too.
A future I refuse to give up on.
-
And I won't let him take that away from me.
Or anything else anymore.
In fact, I'm taking it all back.
Every single damn thing.
-
I wrote this poem to say
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I bought myself pyjamas.