I've Died Again

I’ve Died Again

My past murdered me,

Version after version of myself discarded and rotting away on the journey of becoming who I am today.

I have died and been reborn countless times since my first breath.

Some versions slowly starved and faded as they begged for the love and support they needed to survive

Some drank the poison offered as nourishment to keep me quiet and compliant. I am only now waking from that sleep

My most trusting and innocent selves died the slow death of a thousand cuts. The knives of my own table lodged in their backs, burried there by those closest to me.

Some of my selves drowned trying to swim through oceans made of tears I’ve shed. The sea doesn’t give up her dead, and the cold, dark depths will cradle some of me forever.

I’ve died silently, the hands of others clapped tightly over my mouth, until even with the gag removed I chose to choke on the words I was too afraid to speak.

How did no one notice, how did no one care that I couldn’t breathe?

I couldn’t breathe.

I’ve died screaming in the flames of the bridges I’ve had to burn to protect myself. A dying phoenix turned into a pile of ashes blown away by the wind before the sacred resurection.

Strong women are less threatening when their voices are silent and their lungs are filled with smoke.

Some of my selves held me back, and in desperation I was forced to kill them with my own bare hands as bloody sacrifices to my survival.

Even my childhood self is but bleached bones burried long ago beneath generational trauma

I miss her the most; my inner child. Never given the chance to truly be innocent , to run ferrel, wild and free with bare feet worshiping the sun and sand between her toes.

Walking along the seashore, gently tossing starfish into the sea, one by one, it matters to that one, but who will come to save me?

I remember her fondly in my dreams, her singing faintly echoes through the deepest valleys of my mind. I see her reflection in the pools of my own daughter’s eyes.

Some of my selves got lost along the way, simply wandering off into the dark forests and desserts, never to be seen again. Maybe someday I’ll find them again.

With every death a more beautiful, even more powerful me is born. I understand the soul is immortal, and it’s natural to shed one’s skin to fit the growth that tears me apart at the seams again and again.

And so I mourn, let go and release those parts of me returned to the earth only to be born again from the fire that burns me down into the ashes again.

I died again, and this time the wind lifts me up on wings that unfurl with the unsteadiness of suffering for but a brief moment.

I stretch and yawn arching my back to shed scars and blistered flesh.

I am reborn

I take wing and fly, a great echoing scream piercing the sky and repeating on into infinity. An inferno of flame lighting up the night and penetrating into the darkest places shatttering the evils that thrive in the shadows.

I am free

I am reborn

I am unity

I am all of me and none of me

I am woman

I am Phoenix

And I RISEUP

(Adaptation by Krista Fee- Inspired by original poem by Sparrow Songs)

Healing the trauma of past wounds can be a truly challenging journey. Many of us do not have the support, knowledge and resources to find our own way through the darkness.

We lack the tools to build back a life worth living, let alone have the capacity to to see ourselves thriving, whole and empowered to know we are worthy and in control of our own desires now that the chains are broken

When we come together in safe spaces with other women rising into healing we become Valkyrie leading the battle and transforming the world.

Join me in the RISEUP Phoenix community and experience what safety, support, resources and inspiration can do for your healing journey and connect with your tribe.

Alone we may be just a single spark, but together we ignite an inferno that is powerful enough to transform the world.

Message me and I’ll send you an invitation.