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I don't want to write a poem.
I don't want to tell you how I feel Words rip into my soul Violently grasping to be let out Screaming, screeching, scratching until it is swollen and sore I hate her The girl who controls the fog of my memories She wont let me feel the joy of the swing sets On the swing sets I used to escape chaos and cruelty soothing rocking motions like being in a body of water Ceaselessly she taunts me to analyze every emotion. Only to label me as weak. Why is she protecting me? She wont let me speak. *warning* poem below contains triggering and sensitive material. Sexual violence, assault, and abuse are topics mentioned.
when you look at me like that you know I don't know what to do. I freeze and stare back at you. Washing my body again. Over And Over Again. I feel bad for your wives your kids' lives. When I was young predatory men would feed me those same lies. He brought his friends over to get me drunk. I stumbled to the couch, unable to get up. "Don't worry babe. We'll make you feel better about getting kicked out" fucked me Again and Again. I woke up with chapped lips and eyes Pain along my thighs A large tear in my pants Phantom feelings of hands Grabbing Gripping Groping when i was fifteen. Washing my body again. Over And Over Again. it will always hurt when you reach out to me
knowing that I've been suffocating our communication with deathly silence - I hate when I go to "our" places and I'm instantly taken back. - I drove by our house the other day. I felt numb to a life wrapped in a pretty red bow soaked in gold. I saw your mother. She looks good in red. I snuck around an aisle to avoid her gaze. I wish I could say something horrible about her instead. Who let you into my dreams again? I sealed that door years ago. i miss the joy of places I once loved when it was just me. Me. Once.
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