I hate the label “Survivor”  

They stick it next to my name, but I cringe and rip it away  

“Survivor” like “Trauma” exists outside the context of things you’ve survived or were traumatized by –  

They’re sticky

They’re chronic

They stain your name

“Survivor” is a mentality 

It’s a personality type 

It’s a style of character 

Everyone who knows what to look for can see it –  

Even if I reject “Survivor”  

It colors everything that I do 

Paints the world a shade of danger 

Dyes everything I love a deep sanguine  

as if it is or will be stained with my blood as I defend my right to love it. 

It’s disgusting to me that “Survivor” displaced so many other qualities that had earned their keep 

It’s disgusting to me that “Survivor” carved itself into my skin in an instant 

It’s disgusting to me that it peeled  

“comedian” – “hard worker” – “reliable friend” – “believer in good”  

away to make room.  

I learned to believe in the world’s goodness,  

worked hard to earn the badge, 

practiced each and every day to apply it to my life 

 I chose to believe in good 

I was forced to be a “survivor”  

While I was restrained in the depths of depression,  

alone with a liar,  

shaking my head and saying no, 

he tattooed “survivor” all over my body,  

and when I look in the mirror,

I see nothing but ink  

And 

most importantly 

I feel we’re speaking too soon 

I haven’t survived yet.