“I am done” she screams
Tears rolling down her face
The heat in her body overpowering all her senses
She looks for a place to fall into
She longs for the safety of a net to catch her while she wails and falls and screams into the abyss
Her heart pounds as she witnesses her rage
She doesn’t want to be like them so she thinks about holding back
But she knows she isn’t
And so she lets it rip through her body
Reminding herself that anger isn’t meant to be pretty or perfectly displayed
The desire to run from feeling it all is strong
Can she trust herself? is the question replaying over and over
Safe to trust, safe to trust.
Safe. To. Trust.
As she allows the feelings to circulate in her body she notices something
Her passion in her anger sizzled around her
Her rage had not harmed her, or anyone else
Her rage had been safe to express
She feels strong in her softening
She feels different somehow
Safe. She feels safe.
She feels held.
She is safe to feel it all she realizes.
And so, she does.
Realising her safety is within her own boundaries.
The more she leans into her own safety,
The more she chooses her own boundaries,
Not putting up walls, not needing to hurt others
Discerning where her energy is safe to be
She is safe, and now she knows it.