When childhood trauma fills all the quiet spaces.

In memory of my sister:

Who managed to live with the horror story that was our child hood for 38 Years, I don't blame you, nor am I angry, if anything I'm proud of for making it this far.. I know the thoughts and feelings that crossed mind everyday, I have them. I just hope these words do them justice, by granting a glimpse of understanding, for the fortunate, who need not survive the experience.

Marochelle J.v.R

"The unbothered anger that I have to swallow to be soft would bury you."

And it stopped me in my tracks.

I've never quite related my anger to words like that

because no one talks about the restraint it takes to be soft.

The violence it took for me to be this gentle.

I was not born knowing how to kiss, only how to bite.

But it's easy to forget when I only ever show my teeth mid-laugh,

for I was passed down anger like a family heirloom.

I was taught how to bare my teeth.

Tenderness was not native to me.

I chose to learn it.

The gentleness that falls from my tongue today Is not my first thought.

Sometimes it's not even my second or my third.

It is my practice. It is conscious effort,

and it is not always easy.

Not many people in my life today know the anger

that is buried beneath my kindness.

How many times I have stood at the very edge

Of becoming the very thing that wounded me

And decided to step away.

People speak about gentleness as though it is the absence of violence,

but sometimes it is the very definition of it.

Do not mistake my gentleness for weakness,

for it is not the opposite of it.

It is not the absence of war.

It is what I chose to become after surviving it.

If you believe that my kindness comes from a lack of suffering,

then pray that you never have to hold what I carry so quietly.

For I learned how to kiss from a mouth only made to bite.