What If I Avenge?

What if I avenge? She asks in her blue dress with the gold chain. Fine; everything about her is fine. She has a sparkle of gold, a thin veneer, and so everyone thinks they're safe. Their power and place not remotely threatened. 

But what if I avenge? she thought.

Do I have a heart that could work that way? Would I even want it to? If I avenged, I'd disarticulate you and stuff all your separate bloody pieces in your locker. I'd close the soft wooden door softly, but not before spritzing you with Hugo Boss cologne so you'd know how I feel. Eventually, your blood would drip through the crevices and drip into the lockers below - people would see but no one would care, so again - you'd know how I feel. While Kathy Lee Gifford sings Hey there, you with the stars in your eyes in the ballroom beyond.

I'll miss your arms, that feels fair to say. I've never let anyone hold me like that since, because the nervous system works to protect itself. Hey there, you with the stars in your eyes: the axe is coming. Wait til you feel this blade. Let's talk about it by the way we foxtrot - in lieu of actually talking about it. I'll know whether we're on for later by the way you hold me in your frame. By how much my acuquiecense bores you or my standoffishness makes you work harder. Hey lizard eyes, predator eyes in an otherwise un-noteworthy face. Un-noteworthy? Really? An otherwise unimpressive face? Ugh. You were the most impressive combination of person, behavior and characteristics I could love and loathe at the same time. The way that blade turned inward, oh. But I think you helped me; I look back and see that now. I think you turned my wrist so the sharp edge faced me before I even knew you were touching me. I think you were really adept. I think I had no idea, the spider you were - and I think there's a reason. We always see spiders in eerie dream-like dark scenarios like Bram Stoker's Dracula. Lestat probably loved spiders - same energy. And we all love Lestat, so maybe you deserve forgiveness? Well, love is a strong term. Bit too all-encompassing, maybe. But we're fascinated. I was fascinated. Still fucking am. Another thing you manage to make me question about myself. How do I reclaim my power from you? Or was I doing it the whole time, I just didn't have anyone to see me and tell me: This is okay. What you're doing is owning and celebrating your power and you're okay.  

🎧 Bring This Prompt into Your Own Body

This is my own writing from inside Body Writers, where we use song lyrics as prompts to access our body's voice. If you feel full in your body, disconnected or unsafe in it right now, I invite you to try this yourself:

Set the Mood: 

Get cozy, pull in headphones and listen to this week's song.

Listen:

Close your eyes. Let the energy of the song in. Notice how it affects your body. 

Write:

Open your notebook and write the prompt (What if I avenge?) at the top of your page. What does it bring up for you? What does it make your body want to say? Write that for three pages – without editing, censoring yourself or trying to make your writing "good."

Practice with Me

Body Writing is most effective as an ongoing practice. Whether you prefer to start in the privacy of your bedroom or to be held and witnessed in our gorgeous live circle, I have a path for you. ✍🏼💐

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