Crystal Gail Welcome

thief  Whose hands are these? thief Hands that furiously stole my words thief Hands that clawed at my larynx thief My words have been abducted thief Debarked by jealousy thief Hands that choked my voice box thief Hands that lack trust thief Hands that live a lie thief Hands that misappropriated speech thief Those envious hands taunt me thief Hands that assume I lay in defeat thief, Defenseless I will never be Silent? Maybe when I sleep The modus operandi is never retreat Reclaiming what’s mine . . . One syllable at a time.       April is National …

Power Less Appearing, Disappearing, then re-appearing Unmasking Unraveling converting sound waves into electrical energy Appearing every syllable a simile comparing violations Disappearing, to passionate hate-filled words yelled lightly Unraveling stolen voices false accusations Unmasking lessening the ability power restored, brightly     April is National Poetry Month, and for the 30 days of April, I will write a poem each day.

in·ev·i·ta·ble inˈevidəb(ə)l/ adjective certain to happen; unavoidable 31 days into the new year, I have lost my grandmother, a lover, stable living accommodations, and a sense of security. I have found myself fluctuating between two extremes one that binds me and keeps me grounded to one that keeps me spinning uncontrollably. This rhythm is a damaging truth, and as I continue to cycle, I find myself feeling alone because everything that I believed in, trusted in, and held on to as certainty, isn’t. 20,160 minutes into this new season I’ve actively been working towards the pursuit of higher education. As …

hope hōp/ noun a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen. In 2010, I had my first brain surgery. Roughly 16 surgeries later, I’m still here. More grateful today than ever before. I was depressed, heavily medicated, overweight, and I spent most of my time locked away in a dark one-room apartment. Back then, I started a Youtube Channel with the sole purpose of telling my story. I didn’t care who saw the videos. I just posted. Anytime I felt terrible, I’d VLOG about it. Nearly seven years later, I sit reviewing the views those videos …

I have been breathing for roughly 1,167,696,980 seconds. In honor of my time on this earth, I had the high privilege to close out my final days of age 36 in Shanghai, China. With the good fortune to be a guest of an incredible friend, Ika, and their wonderful father (it is here that I will take a moment to boast about the kindness, love, and overall goodness that the family bestowed upon me). Throughout my time in China, I was exposed to many norms specific to that region of the world. The most significant attribute that I witnessed was …

Today, I’m writing through the discomfort. A paralyzed vocal cord can mark the past year, screaming out words that vibrate only within me. It’s deafening. After months of intentional disconnect, my re-entry into society strongly affected my emotions. Shortly after returning to Georgia, I was attacked by a housemate. As a child abuse survivor who has since become an example of recovery and hope, I hid all evidence of the event. In my case, that meant avoidance. I evaded life through distractions. I felt shattered. The woman that once resembled my norm lay at my feet. I knew that I …