I remember sitting in my room listening to my friends talk about love problems and realizing how incredibly stupid we sound talking about people that never once cared about us or our feelings. Yet we still concerned ourselves with their actions, surprised at how the game was played and how blind-sighted we were from their cruel intentions. Those times I'd blaspheme to my audience of the heart broken,the names I kept so sacred to me. I recall of the many nights throughout the years I've spent dwelling with the hurt over and over.   I remember the nights I spent crying over and over until eventually my heart would cement the pieces back together waiting for the next irresponsible wrecking ball of emotions Those nights I prayed to a God out there for unbreakable peaceWhen will it cease? The kind of stomach dropping, soul crushing pain of loving a deceiver in denialA monster in a mask I almost forgot the stench of desperation leaking from my pores to pull the physical body of them back just enough to create something kind of like love  I remember the nights I spent carving the letter J in my skin to produce a welt that would signify the forfeiture of the ownership of my entire being to another. The nights I spent compromising every part of myself to prove my loyalty.The days I spent sleep deprived and starved to cope with an unrested soul.  I remember the time I realized I was a refugee camp for many men. The time I understood the problem with being a camp is that, to a refugee ,you are merely a pit stop until a place is called home. My biggest problem was making a home out of every fugitive along their journey and hoping someone would be kind enough to find a home in me. Then the late night I realized that maybe I'd never been home or maybe even treated myself like a refugee campLoving myself only to leave it for the love of another. I remember the night I took the pills, downed them with henny, and made a toast to my self demise. Raised a glass to my low self esteem and my inability of self-acceptance. Dreamt of the malicious words of others wrapping it's extensions around my neck until the dangling of feet.  I remember waking up with a feeling of living death and an empty soul. Dwelling in bed until my body seemed to melt into the mattress. Silenced to everyone. Each night tempted to reach again into the medicine cabinet. Crying deadly and void  tears of complete numbness. Still waiting on a love more powerful than my self-hate. Still waiting on a confirmation that I was still human and I still had purpsose.  I remember the night I saw the light reach out to me as if it was to grasp the tip of my finger. The night God showed me who I was to be. The night God showed his closeness to me. I remember God showing me how to save myself so well I could save multitudes. I remember being on that journey alone, saving those people alone. Hoping God had made a mistake in making me the superhero, when I was still a damsel in distress awaiting my Prince Charming.  I remember the day I saved myself for the first time. Climbing down my own tower of depression and into a valley of serenity. Never questioning the whereabouts of a Prince Charming, only asking for the direction of the enslaved. Walking away from my sadness with a map and a sledgehammer