POEM: the tough girl is dead

sacred self-care hacks

the tough girl is dead

Molly Beane Poetry | November 5, 2019 | Flight: SAN – CLT

(I’m writing a poetry book to be released early 2020. To sign up for notifications, CLICK HERE)

Once upon a time, I was a tough girl.
Unfuckwithable.
I buried my emotions in deep graves
inside all of my body’s dead spaces.
Just like I used to hide airplane bottles
in cereal boxes and inside combat boots.

Molly Beane poetry
Circa fall 2012; Columbus, OH – Molly Beane poetry

Once upon a time, I probably judged you
because I fancied myself a stone-cold bitch
who looked innocent but could eat you for breakfast —
bones and all.

Molly Beane poetry
Circa July 2014; Del Mar, CA – Molly Beane poetry

I said I didn’t care about what you thought of me
while secretly longing for your approval.
I survived on Marlboro Lights, Budweiser, and sarcasm,
but could never be fully satiated.

Molly Beane poetry
A standard morning scene

I divided my time between a cubicle, Murphy’s Irish Pub,
and some guy’s bedsheets, wearing a convenient mask,
so you could never know the truth of who I was.
I never knew who I was either.

Molly Beane poetry
Circa Jan 2015, Aruba. Not just drunk. Molly Beane poetry

Because if anyone sniffed me out, they’d hurt me —
or they’d abandon me, just like daddy did.
I was disgusting and unlovable, just like daddy said.
Irreparably flawed, worthy of Chernobyl-level self-destruction.

Molly Beane poetry
Circa 2009; Washington, DC – Molly Beane poetry

The only problem was this annoying gnawing
that no amount of cheap beer could drown out.
My soul wanted out of its prison.

Molly Beane poetry
Christmas Day 2015 – I think this was before noon; San Diego, CA – Molly Beane poetry

So once upon a time, I checked myself into rehab
where the tough girl died
and a caterpillar egg hatched from the leaf of a milkweed plant.

They diagnosed me with a long list of acronyms & neuroses
— “So…not everyone feels this shitty?”
Ice cream brain freeze. System overload.
Trauma gurgled up to the surface, swallowing me whole.
Now there was nowhere to hide and
I finally became acquainted with my sacred tears.

Three years of excruciating baby steps
led me to a glorious waterfall at the end of the Bamboo Forest.
I approached a glittering turquoise pool.
I dared to look in and finally found myself in the reflection.

Once upon a time, I found a little blonde girl
barefoot, with flowers in her hair.
I embraced her and basked in her utter wholeness.
She showed me that the light I’d hidden for so long now burned to a flicker.
For her, I decided not to blow it out.

Molly Beane poetry
Circa Oct 2019 – Guatemala | Molly Beane poetry

She helped me transform that flicker
into a radiant morning star, where I finally beheld
A sensitive soul
A devoted student
An honest mess
A vulnerable warrior
A holy guide
A creatrix
A songbird
A mystic from the cosmos
A channel of ancient wisdom
A butterfly stretching its wings
A blonde adult woman, barefoot, with flowers in her hair.

Molly Beane poetry
Circa Oct 2019, Guatemala – Molly Beane Poetry

I now live a life you may not understand but
I am finally free of my mask
Finally free of my poison
Finally free.

Molly Beane Poetry

love, molly

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