when i got into cave canem on the first try, i was so depressed? i did not even pay attention to it. people kept saying it was a really big deal. it wasn’t a big deal to me. i couldn’t feel anything. my heart was shattered. debated whether i would go because i had a teaching gig that summer and i could not get the time off. i would have to give up my job. and i knew that one week may not be worth 6 weeks without the kids. they’re like a drug lol. they will get you back to reality very quickly. lmao!
would i be in a safe space if i went, or no? i don’t really write for anything but healing.
will i be safe with all black people?
i went. in a daze. i did more crying than anything. a good sign. because for a while, i was in so much pain i couldn’t even cry.
then i went back again, and what i thought was a beautiful dream,
my worst nightmare.
i’m still fighting it. daily. because i know the world is filled with beautiful people who don’t hurt others intentionally. and i know that some of the best poets i’ve ever heard, were standing right in front me. regular ass people.
who i love.
so i’m good. i got a year left. i don’t know if i can go back. it’s like revisiting trauma intentionally.
but it’s also a place of super healing.
idk. i told the truth about one of their heroes. but they did too. about another one. so maybe, it’s