I’ve got bruises,
ones you can’t see.

Cuz I’ve buried them deep within me
that is …until recently
when my body reminded me
in the form of PTSD
and it made me think
about all the things
that go unseen.

All the invisible scars.
All the activists behind bars
for trying to put out fires
Because the world is burning
and full of natural disasters
but what’s natural about
the system putting out fires
with gasoline?

Meanwhile I’m putting out fires in The Bronx
because the buildings never stopped burning.

Where I’m from, our lives never stop filling our lungs with smoke.

Tragedy after tragedy
and change is slow,
so it feels like none of us got any room to grow.

No room to breathe deep, or to debrief
all them silent battles and kids dying in these streets.

New York is home to a lot of things.
People who live and die by the fire.

so I know that’s why
I’ve got bruises.

Ones you can’t see.
I’ve buried them deep within me
that is … until recently.

Now, I’m on a mission to heal my bloodline.
Finding a home wherever there’s sunshine.

Sun kisses
and hopeful wishes.

Never had unconditional love,
and yet, it’s still something
my inner child misses.

But I’ve always had the love of the earth surrounding me.
Grounding me.
And through the pain, I found something profound in me.

The womb of the earth
took me in and rebirthed me as a Phoenix.

So even when the world is on fire,
I easily find something to love.
Something I adore enough to fight for.

I no longer look for love
outside of myself anymore.

These days,
I don’t just fall for anything
because me and my body
really been through everything.

Rebirth after rebirth.

Phoenix Ríszing.

To me,
the earth is just another
Phoenix rising
and that’s exactly why
she’s worth protecting.

So there I was, sitting on a twin-size air mattress on my cousin’s bedroom floor in the Bronx–jobless, depressed, and suicidal. It was at that moment that I realized that I was the only person that could save me, so I had to become a Phoenix. I had to spread my wings to fly or I was sure to die. I’ve been told my entire life, “You’re so strong. You’re built for this. You’re the strongest person I know” but nobody knows the violence it took to become this gentle.

A little over a year ago, I had an ego death. After months of suicidal thoughts and PTSD flashbacks from my childhood, I mourned, grieved, and rejoiced all within a day. Suddenly, I realized it was destined that way–that I was destined for death and rebirths so I changed my name to Phoenix Ríszing. I had to die in order not to die. I had to die in order to become new. I had to let go of the version of myself who was trapped in suffering–allowing myself to grieve various versions of me that no longer served the woman I was becoming.

I spent the majority of my early-mid 20s using drugs and sex to repress my childhood trauma; trauma I didn’t even remember having, that was, until I experienced my first PTSD flashback over a year ago. It was a panic attack and bodily flashback episode that brought me back to that 7 or 8 year old little girl who was once molested. That flashback showed me the reality of being a trauma survivor and how easy it is to bury traumatic memories deep within as a way to protect ourselves. Even if we have no recollection of repressing these memories–which I did not. It’s no wonder, as an adult, that I attracted a partner who would trigger and mirror my childhood trauma so intensely until it forced me to acknowledge how my childhood trauma led me into a TRAUMA BOND with a toxic partner. The trauma bond eventually led to a new sexual trauma–one that had come to me in a dream as a warning, yet quickly became a premonition and unfolding of my worst nightmare. My ancestors and my higher self had no choice but to step in considering that I was running down a road that almost cost me my sanity. I spent all of 2023 processing and recovery from past trauma, but in 2024, I will spend my year LIVING. Loving myself unconditionally and unapologetically. In 2024, I am honoring my needs without guilt. In 2024, I am raising my standards and the price of access to me. I will no longer be offering my body to others in exchange for “love” or validation. In 2024, I will forgive myself for all the things I convinced myself I needed to do in order to survive. In 2024, I will collect memories that remind me why it’s a gift to still be alive. I will sit with my inner child and remind her that she is loved, seen, and protected in ways she wasn’t all those years ago. We will hold hands and pick flowers, blow bubbles, and daydream about the future that has never looked brighter for us. For the first time in my life, I will choose ME. I’ll choose us.

My journey has not been gentle with me and because of this I’ve been forced to address ancestral pain and trauma. It has taken immense courage to sit with this. From an early age, I knew there was heavy darkness in my bloodline but as an adult, I’ve been able to break the curse by choosing healing. In 2023, I was called by my ancestors to heal and protect my bloodline through embarking on this healing journey of healing generational trauma. I had to die and rebirth myself several times. It feels strange to say, but I am thankful for my traumas and my demons. Not because they’ve given me ANY grace, but for volunteering to teach me just how resilient I am. Truth is, I thought I could outrun my trauma until one day it finally tapped me on the shoulder. Now, my trauma and I are becoming one–like lovers in a tub of roses. I now throw roses into the abyss as a way to thank the monsters who didn’t succeed in swallowing me alive. This is my offering to my monsters and the version of me that I let die with them. In 2024, I will look in the mirror and tell myself “I’m proud of you. Thank you for existing” In 2024, I will love myself more because if I don’t who will?