BTT #77: Encircled.

On By Lona GyntIn Poetry

(trigger warning- contains mention of prior attempted suicide some years ago- I am happy to say none of that is going on now)

Encircled

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To begin again

I must find the strength

To remember

All that

Almost never was

That day I did not

Drive my car into a wall.

I am not ashamed to be her(e),

Or when you stare,

Or look shocked

Or embarrassed

To see me

To know me

To love me

To be any type of partner

With me, as if you thought

By standing by me

It made you me.

You could do worse.

I have been

Asked if I had been asked

If the circus were in town

Or who saw me

Or where on earth

Did I have to sneak off to

To even pee.

I had built a world

Around me tightly until

That little girl inside me

Who had never even had

A chance to breathe

Looked up through rain with

Dark eyes in that brief dream

And simply told me

Please,

Please,

All I want is to be

Out and free.

Her eyes are mine now

In this world you have taken

From me for the crime of

How I look,

How I sound,

And who I am.

I will not avert my gaze

In either shame or weakness

From your empty eyes and mouths

Though you have torn me

From my bread and

Cast me upon the waters.

I see you and maybe,

If you are lucky,

You will see your shame

And stand a chance to stand

With me in this pile

Of nothing you have left me.

This no thing – I sing –

I lie awake, but not to count the

Cost of simply being

Who I am.

I breathe and

Breathe and

Breathe again

And let go of

All that

To remember

I must find the strength

To begin again.

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-Lona Gynt, March 2021. All rights reserved for text and photos.

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.Posted for dVerse, where Peter Frankis is asking us to write a poem that is or contains in some way a circle back to the beginning. Here is the link to the prompt:

MTB: Coming full circle

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The photo is of a circular involuting flower from Zion National Park in Utah.

46 thoughts on “BTT #77: Encircled.”

  1. A striking piece Lona – thank you so much for sharing this heartfelt poem. So much to like here – the short lines – each standing alone – ‘I am not ashamed to be her(e)’ ‘Breathe and / Breathe again’ – and part of the whole – falling down the page – now bitter, now brave, now strong. And the circle of first and last lines. Bravo and a koala stamp for you. 🐨

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    1. Thank you my friend. Your words show precisely how I feel. You bring the words of Camus to mind.

      “The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”

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  8. sanaarizvi

    “This no thing – I sing – I lie awake, but not to count the cost of simply being
    who I am,”… sigh…This is incredibly incredibly moving, Lona. Your poem is raw, and honest and palpable. It took me back a few years when I was struggling with the same. I feel that as time is moving forward, more and more people are suffering from loneliness. If only, there was an ear for every aching heart.. the world would be fuller. 💝

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    1. Oh Saana, I am so glad you noticed those lines. They were problematic for me in composition, ignoring syntax, and floated weirdly, but seemed reflect the dissociative feeling of having had my foundation, my livelihood pulled out from under me, from my perspective for no other reason of who I am, and that my tormentors who were long time friends and partners did this was especially painful. For me it splintered their identity into a strange ungrounded limbo as well, but then to anchor back to the realization thatI am blessed to be grounded in who I am and that brings me back home. I hope they can join me there again someday if they can overcome the bias about my status, I do would love to see their humanity replenished in my eyes some day because they have so much to offer. These lines just came out raw, as you say, and I struggled a long time to make them “proper” if you will, but it did not feel right, so I let them stand. I love how you centered on the lynchpin at the heart of this poem. 💕 Thank you! 💕

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    1. You know what intrigues me about this flower is that it was huge, it looked like morning glory, but the blossom was 5 inches across! Do I don’t know if it is some other flower, or some nightmare monster that would eat our house (sibling inside joke to all y’all other peeps). The trigger warning joke made me chuckle. Have had really good news today. Talk later brother, love you!

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  11. Xan

    An ode to everyone who has wondered why everyone seems to see them as different and not just as themselves. Especially striking line (among many striking lines): To remember All that Almost never was.

    The stuttering, short-lined form also very evocative of the emotional journey here.

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    1. Thank you Xan, I appreciate that, although I don’t like to dwell on that dangerous time, but I don’t want to forget it because it puts any current difficulties into perspective. I am glad you found something in this.

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  12. Lona, this part really gets to me:
    “That little girl inside me
    Who had never even had
    A chance to breathe”
    What I know is that light always pisses off darkness and darkness works hard to extinguish light.
    Lona, Dear Lona, I am glad you are here. She saved you. ❤ ❤ ❤ {{{{{{{HUGS}}}}}}}

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    1. Oh I feel those hugs Lisa, thank you! HUGZZZ back! Before I had been able to accept that I would ever be able to transition, my feminine identity would often try assert itself in dreams. I have written about some of these before. Sometimes she would be draped in shame:

      BTT #15: Three dreams, Part 1 – Prisons

      Other times we would fight:

      BTT #17: Three Dreams, Part 2 – Fade Away

      And with self-acceptance I would dream I was a woman draped in glory:

      BTT #17: Three Dreams, Part 2 – Fade Away

      But the dream that frames for me most profoundly the need I had to out and fully myself in the world was when I was sitting in a recliner after work, and fell asleep just briefly, less than a minute, but during that time dreamt of my little girl self splashing puddles in the rain, she stopped and looked up from under a bright umbrella and with tears in my dark brown eyes simply uttered “Please!” Lisa I am glad you noticed her presence in this poem. I grieve for her, but am happy I listened. Yes, she saved me. 💕💕💕

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    1. Yes, tangentially, although the main impetus was a move by business partners of 18 years, that essentially makes me start over at 54 years old. But I am grateful that I am healthy enough to start over and still work hard, if I can do that another 20 years or so I will be fine.

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  14. Don’t know how I missed this one 1st time around. Awesome circularity indeed. I still look around for the right wall to drive into / leap from, but when I spot it nowadays, I just laugh.

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