" Even though trauma has a way of
becoming the wallpaper of my head,

watch me drag the art
out of my suffering.

Watch me plant seeds down my spine
and bloom into a garden of poetry

from every horrible thing that has ever
happened to me, all the nights my voice
turned to cement and I couldn't say anything-

Watch me build an empire from the ashes
of everything that tried to destroy me. "

― Blythe Baird , If My Body Could Speak