We are raw exposed
protection armor melting
to feel safe;
to feel validated;
to be able to choose enough vulnerability
not only to allow someone to fully see my pain,
also to reach out and ask for help.
Then there is the vulnerability unasked for.
Unwanted. Forced.
Leaving me feeling exposed, naked, and in terror.
Someone satiating themselves with my body.
What is it about physical pain today that leads me back in memory, in these waves of past, forced, exposed, unasked for vulnerability. And I just want to run hiding.
I stay though, because I know I am safe. I know I have learned the difference between what is forced upon me, and what I get to choose.
I know what is safe and unsafe.
I learned true intimacy.
It is beautiful and warm and I get to live it every day.
I get to choose it everyday.
Instead of desperately trying to cover myself up, I leave myself with my hand stretch out and my voice speaking in the words of “I am in pain, please help.”
It is f$%king scary. It is not the terror though of the past.
This is where this painting is birthed.
Her eyes staring out, steely and soft, and looking directly out.
Mask of hiding and covering up falling off through her words.
She sits insecure and open.
Choosing to be scared, and vulnerable at the same time.
She is tough and finding her way through.
This is what pain had to say today.
This is the Story Within Her.
paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower