“Sometimes you find yourself in the middle of nowhere, and sometimes, in the middle of nowhere, you find yourself.”—
I Am Not Your Negro (Raoul Peck, 2016)
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Take that thing that happened to you and whisper it to your shower head. Let it drown down the drain amongst the dirt of the day.
Set a fire and dance around the flames, spit it into the blue blaze and watch it change nothing of burning brilliance.
Place it in your hand and fold it like those little fortune tellers you used to make as a child, do not let it tell you what will become, crush it in your fist.
Go back to that place where that thing happened to you, roll it into a cigarette, light it, and then let crumble in the ash trash, don’t you dare inhale, leave it, let it burn down everything around it.
Take that thing that happened to you and try to remember that it is not you. The thing about shame is that it is not what we did it’s what we are. The thing about that thing that happened to you is that there is no shame.
Take that thing that happened to you and let it drain amongst the dirt of the day.
Take That Thing That Happened to You (Based on the Tara Hardy poem of the same name), Alma Blood