she; her memories.

she’s able to tell

she's able to tell me when it's okay

and when it's not.

she's able to warn me

of the dark days my mind has already forgotten.

she's able to communicate

in subtle ways

with messages as strong as storms spiraling through my throat.

she's able to…

with all the things she's able to do…

she's helpless.

her communication is a scream for help

her warnings are signals that say “please stop"

her stories are memories untold.

she's my guardian.

her communication is to protect me

and to protect her

to let me know she hasn't healed yet.

she's mine to look out for.

her communication is a cry for help

for a joined effort

to grow out of the bads together

to grow from the goods even stronger.

she's my body.

//from "my body is a system of memories"//