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satellite
she orbits her world like a satellite,
never quite able to be pulled
into its fortuitous center.
an idyllic childlike twinkle
once resided in her eyes. she is kind.
she is kind even when her smile
is taken advantage of.
for years, she roamed
fields of green and meadows
of yellow, longing for tomorrow,
for today was what she despised.
she strived to evoke love,
not chides, from those around her.
when she looks back on her life,
she feels ever so slightly removed
from the memories she knows
should be uniquely her own.
she was naive in those times,
naive in all her years
prior to him.
derealization became her priority,
for the man that she idolized
would be the very person
who immobilized her childhood.
paralyzed in the thwarting wake
of time, she became
a passive observer
of the friends who passed
her by, of the lies she used
as a disguise, of the body
that was supposedly hers.
did you know that you can violate
a satellite? you can throw it
face first into the knife, into your hands.
you can choke it until it’s convinced
that it is dead, then resurrect it
and violate it again.
you can violate a satellite
because she doesn’t know she’s
a satellite. she thinks she’s a body.
satellites carry the scars
of weather and time, they orbit
so they can stay inside their mind.
did you know that you can kill a satellite?
if you violate it enough, you will become
its parasite. you can drain it of blood
and of agency
until it is your clay to mold.
he killed her when he made her his own.
his to violate, his to kill, his to hold
a knife to throat.
you can kill a satellite,
or you can spare it,
so it continues to rely on you to stay alive.
to kill her would’ve been more humane.
she is a satellite because he drained
her of her childlike whimsy, of her smile,
and of the twinkle in her eyes—
but she is still kind.
she knows that kindness
never gravitates towards centers,
yet to live
at the periphery of her life
makes her a thankful little satellite.
to live with that deprived child
still inside of her, and to do right
by it each day with kindness
is what she vowed
when she escaped the knife.
and in spite of him,
she orbits. she breathes.
she smiles.
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In this poem, I wanted to write about the dissociation that follows a traumatic relationship that felt raw and real to me. I conjured up the metaphor of the satellite, because I like the imagery of being able to see, hear, and orbit your world without actually being inside of it. Ever since this relationship, I have felt like my life has been nothing more than me pacing around in repetitious circles without being tethered to anything. In other words, a satellite. This is definitely one of the more personal poems I’ve written, and I love it because of the optimistic ending. The nicest thing anyone has ever said to me is, “You are a strong person because of AND in spite of what you’ve been through.” So the idea of orbiting, breathing, and smiling in spite of this traumatic relationship, is a beautiful note for this satellite to end her poem on.