Again it is the tears
There is something so lonely about living in my body
The tears
I so much want to celebrate the progress that I have made
I have none to celebrate with
My body wants to feel a man so deeply
As does my spirit
What I feel is violation
All the pain from India and from the army erupted outward
And I realize that I want some help, again, in managing the anger that I have collected along my way, inhabiting my woman's body
The memories from India came storming through and the fear, the terror and the anger made me feel that I no longer want to be embodied
I cried, and this scared my parents
Smoking pot did nothing good for me this time
So much pain came upwards and it was too much for me to bear
Watching porn, abusive, demeaning and frightening
left me feeling so vulnerable
And learning that so many men masturbate to this made me feel sick and hopeless
My sexuality is playful and light and eager and passionate
It is not violent or controlling or mechanical
And its song does not sing for money
In India
my soul was raped
my body was saved
I yelled and yelled and somehow kept them at bay
And then I lay curled in a ball
My female body so much wants to be touched and to be loved by a man
And my soul is weepy and tired from wanting
From not finding what my body begs for
I want to celebrate and here the tears spill
What a strange one i am, writing to my blog the deepest intimacies, sharing the most sacred secret parts of myself
What I want is to celebrate that my body has healed to this point
Where a man can enter me, where I can share the joy of knowing and feeling that I can make love to a man, that my vagina can open itself to a man...
And what I find are tears and tears and more tears
Because once again, I feel their hands grabbing at me, their cold hearted hearts circling me
I am their bait,....
What i want is to love and to share
And what I find is emotional pain instead of joy and celebration
I find more and more emotional pain and loss
I have none to share my joy with
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