My head is full of other people’s memories,

Their pains, sorrows, laughters and joys.

I know their efforts to belong and to please,

Their innocent mistakes and deliberate ploys.

I bear witness to their painful truths,

And I know their loves, hurts and hates.

Their lies spoken, so very full of proof,

But I’m no judge and I won’t berate.

I’ve seen their bruises, beatings and swirling stars.

I’ve known their gutwrenching cries and pleadings,

Their grief and strife and tender, welted scars.

I’ve compressed their wounds, tried to stop the bleeding.

I’ve felt the fist crashing across my face.

I’ve felt my vocal chords shred from screams.

I know the feel of scrubbing away rape,

And I’ve awakened fighting from choking dreams.

The memories don’t belong to others.

I’m looking with eyes of honesty

As the realization comes and fully smothers,

I know these are my memories of me.

by River Katt