{"id":135402,"date":"2023-09-02T20:04:45","date_gmt":"2023-09-03T00:04:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=135402"},"modified":"2023-09-02T18:46:05","modified_gmt":"2023-09-02T22:46:05","slug":"hour-12-i-am-whole-and-i-have-no-missing-peices","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2023\/09\/hour-12-i-am-whole-and-i-have-no-missing-peices\/","title":{"rendered":"Hour 12 – I am whole and I have no missing peices"},"content":{"rendered":"

Content warning – sexual content, assault, alcohol use<\/em><\/p>\n

I am whole and I have no missing pieces.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was 14, on a Monday with no school, “watching” Lord of the Rings for the first time, and felt someone else’s fingers on my lips, I did not give away a piece of myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was 16, in a diabetics basement, after losing miserably at phase 10 yet again, and I felt someone else’s pleasure in my mouth, I did not give away a piece of myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was 17, in previously soaked clothes, having been rained out of the amusement park and split a bottle of rum, and I felt the joy of going without latex, I did not give away a piece of myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was 18, in a drunken stupor, left without a prom date, and I felt the pain of waking up knowing someone did not ask for my permission, I did not give away a piece of myself<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was 19, in the anonymity of the internet, falling head over heals for silver-tongued bastard and making sure they knew it with the videos I kept coming, I did not give away a piece of myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was 20, in the spirit of “when in Rome”, drunk on the attention of the bartenders at the Irish pub, I let an art teacher tell me all about the Fontana dei Fiumi, I did not give away a piece of myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was 21, in the depths of a beer glass, being thanked in bourbon aged beer for waiting until I was “of age” to visit, and I watched my reflection shake in a mirror hung on antique wallpaper, I did not give away a piece of myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was 22, in an especially humid summer, writing a cover letter every week only to be ignored, and I was comforted by a face and more between my thighs, I did not give away a piece of myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was 23, in the witch city, judging all of the Mai Tai’s I could get my hands on with a person I could kiss for hours, and I decided to enjoy a different drink in the back seat of their car on a Thursday night, I did not give away a piece of myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was 24, in the full view of George Washington and the public, on a particularly hazy evening, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from a cherub\u2019s eyes to enjoy the fog in the garden, I did not give away a piece of myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was 25, on a stage with a spectator sketching my bound form, a protective sheet of plastic beneath me, and I shouted yes please until I couldn\u2019t anymore, I did not give away a piece of myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

I am whole and I have no missing pieces.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Content warning – sexual content, assault, alcohol use I am whole and I have no missing pieces. When I was 14, on a Monday with no school, “watching” Lord of the Rings for the first time, and felt someone else’s fingers on my lips, I…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5396,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2114],"tags":[6087,6089,6088,1496],"class_list":["post-135402","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-official-marathon-announcement","tag-assault","tag-purity-culture","tag-survivior","tag-whole"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/135402","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/5396"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=135402"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/135402\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":135427,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/135402\/revisions\/135427"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=135402"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=135402"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=135402"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}