You Could be my Father

When an older customer informed me

that he liked skinny girls and

he wanted me to come to his house,

if no one else heard,

could I pretend it never happened?

But when the woman behind him laughed

as I stood there hearing nothing

but his comments,

her laugh,

and my heartbeat clawing its way up my chest

I could no longer pretend it did not happen

it became as real as the sun shining outside

and the blaze was terrifying

as it took my breath away and made me feel faint-

in that moment I loathed him.

and her.

and myself.

I hated myself for having a body

and I hated myself merely

for hating myself.

this feeling was all too familiar

it was the same feeling I had when

the man told me my jeans were too tight

or when the delivery guy hugged me

or when countless other men

provided me with unwanted comments and touch.

In these moments I wanted my

flesh to become one with the walls

and I thought maybe if I stared hard enough

at the ground I could become it.

I did not realize that having

a body was an invitation

for others to say or do whatever they pleased.

Society Says

When the moon begins
to ignite the sky at dusk

I like to believe
she is calling my name,

sometimes it’s just nice to know
there is something out there

that can break up the darkness;

in some lights we all look the same-

he no longer resembles a monster-

I no longer his victim,

there are days where it feels like every one knows

exactly what happened,

like a chandelier where crystals shine in the light,
my secrets shine in the sun

my brokenness on display for all,

he told me no one would believe me

now there are days-
I don’t always believe it myself;

no one teaches you how to grieve
the loss of your own body,

but as a girl you are taught many
different ways to prepare for it-

which only makes the weight of
the blame heavier,

I should have fought more,

I should have said no,

I should have done something,

because then and only then

this really would not be

my fault.

Honesty

The honesty lives somewhere deep in my chest, I don’t know if I will ever tell anyone the whole truth- but I’m hoping to tell parts of it; the scars on my arm tell me maybe the truth isn’t hidden so deep inside of me- maybe I’m not as hard to read as I thought I was; one night we lay on the floor laughing together, right now she doesn’t look as scary as usual. I want this moment to never end; my biggest hope is that she feels the same.

Love

Sometimes, the people who say
they love you the most,

don’t really understand what love is

or what it is supposed to be;

they want you to break yourself for them,

but they would never think of
breaking themselves for you

Sometimes love can mean sacrifice,

but it doesn’t always have to

Hopeful

From the beginning
they told me I was too quiet

which is why when I was assaulted
I blamed myself,

I thought I must have somehow
consented to what he did to me

I thought my silence must have meant yes;

trying to heal feels way too much
like being punished for what he did,

I have thought about leaving forever,
but I never want to give him the satisfaction

he has taken so much from me already,

when the night gets lonely

and the world seems no bigger
than the space in my mind

I write over and over and over again
that I will be okay;

when the world feels like it is
shattering around me-

I promise myself I will not shatter with it;

on the days when all I can think about
are the details of what he did

I remind myself I am not the broken one;

and when this body feels like it no longer belongs to me-

I remember that this body never belonged to him.

Oceans

Last week I started to write my suicide note

so far all it says is:
‘I’m sorry’

I can’t bear to tell you about the pain
that has consumed me,

how my body is no longer mine

how it hasn’t been for a while now.

I picked out the date for my death,

don’t worry,
it’s not for a few more months

my heart feels like a weight
I have never been trained to carry

I’m sorry that I never told you
who I really am

my body has become a casket;
I bury my secrets inside of me

hoping that the ghost
is not too noticeable.

The other day you asked me
why my smile looks so different,

why my eyes look so tired all the time,

I didn’t know how to answer.

Loneliness has become my closest friend-

isolation my only defense mechanism,

I stopped going to counseling
after I brought up the assault
and sexual abuse

because suddenly I was too exposed,
the pain became too raw-
everything too real.

I thought my counselor would hate me
just as much as I hate myself.

Guilt and shame crush my soul everyday,
they grind my bones to dust

my skin is a canvas for pain;

I draw the hurt I feel inside
onto my body hoping you understand

how deep this sadness runs;

sadness is an indescribable pain-

all five oceans live in my chest,

they drown me in their waves

as they throw me into their shore;

I cry for help-

but no sound ever comes out.