There is more surviving after every survival [A Poem]

Trigger Warning: Rape The way you know a pain is lastingis through the heart-how it thumps (wildly)how it almost stops (dead) every timehow this chest suddenly becomesthe heaviest thing to carryAnd so I step into a room with ready hands-(i) to hold my body before and after it shatters(ii) to feel my face in remembrance of here(iii) to hit or strike or break anything that reminds  me ofa day I fought for something that has always been mine.Entitlement is a tricky thing and the body of a womanis a million things but a bad jokeI'll tell you a secret-there's not a day I do not remember.It started with my skinbut grief has a habit of swelling upand reaching my most inward parts.It opens a door and in the same breath,I am all gone.Somewhere in my room is a gun filledwith bullets and the hope that I do not die(today).My mother says there is more surviving after every survivaland I wonder how many times we mourn the deadeven after they are gone.I will always dream about my father.Now God forbid I bring myself to pull the triggerbut what's to say this pain wouldn't grow hands,reach for the weapon and end my life?What's to say the heaviest thing on my chest isn'tmy heart expanding but all the bodiesI have lost trying to make it out alive