Learning how to teach, hence
forgetting how to be
I say goodbye to each word that I've cried out,
and birthed from my own two hips
Every picture I've dreamed in,
and woven into some type of vague magic--
Heart and soul into picture and poem.
When will I find this so-called integrity?
Good bye, expression;
Farewell, sweet identity!
I was going to be a teacher. After five years of school, spending the last of those learning exactly what it meant to be a teacher, and, more importantly, the sacrifices involved, I got out of there as fast as I could. One year later and I’m still trying to find all of the pieces of myself that I lost along the way. The internet had to be scrubbed clean of me, everything deleted and password protected. As a result, the anxiety which surrounds expressing myself as a real person again, one who is not censured, not opinion-less, not sex-less, is still strong. Once I was all of these things, and then I was none. So here’s to finding out what I am now.