In the midst of our passion,
I tried to make you show your hand.
You were losing your poker face,
I thought your inhibitions were gone.

But when I said “tell me what you want”
You replied “for you to be happy and healthy”.

And that shattered the dam.
The wall that held back the sea splintered.
And I let you see me drown in my pain.

I told you how letting you gorge on me
Made me the kind of sad I could control.
It was a shallow kind of sad, one that could be fixed with scotch tape.
I ripped the adhesive off  of the shallow sad
When the deep dark sad became too much.

I told you how letting you gorge on me
Made me feel useful, even if it validated everything he told me.
I don’t care that my body is nothing more than something to be ******,
At least I’m doing my friend a favor.

So even if I can’t be happy and healthy right now,
And even if you know that,
At least we can see each other for what we are
As I let you feed his desires for me,
And you let me feed my desire for pain.

I have been feeling too much
So I can’t feel anything at all.
I’ve been so full,
But the pain became invisible.
I know it is there, but I can’t see it.

Sometimes I have to remind myself
That the reason I’m feeling light headed
Is because I haven’t taken a breath in almost 2 minutes.

The lilacs of our love are dying and getting crushed by the fists of circumstance.
The aroma is sickly sweet, just like your embrace.
The backbone is snapped, just like mine was absent.

But I still wish it would continue to bloom

What has happened here?
Why is everything broken?
Who have we become?

I said “you think you want me.”
You corrected me.
You said “I know I want you.”
I almost choked on my laughter.
What other ******* did you possibly have up your sleeve?

A forced symphony
Sponsored by the lonely king
Has turned them to dust

If someone had told me last New Year’s Eve,
That a year later I wouldn’t be shattered,
I’d call them a liar.
But they are not a liar.
Over the course of a year, I have taken my broken glass and turned my pain into a stained glass window. Beautiful and living in color.

If someone had told me last New Years Eve,
That a year later people would know about my trauma,
I’d call them a liar.
But they are not a liar.
Seven months in, I stopped holding the burden alone, and the 4 year old trapped in me started to learn that her body is something not meant to be abused.

If someone had told me last New Years Eve,
That a year later instead of crying over him, I’d be with him,
I’d call them a liar.
But they are not a liar.
I took a terrible and broken situation and built a friendship out of it, and now that friend will be with me at midnight.

If someone had told me last New Years Eve,
That a year later I wouldn’t hate myself
I’d call them a liar.
But they are not a liar.
I have grown so much, I can’t even pick out a thing I don’t like about myself  anymore.
Cheers to that.