19 and held down by her shoulders
her shirt still on, he doesn’t try to remove it
it’s a hastily act that wakes her up abruptly as a penetrating pain spreads over a low section of her body
she feels like a ragdoll so out of control, like she can’t scream for help because she didn’t say no to the first or second time but now she’s asleep and surely that’s a sign
his hands on her neck and she thinks it’s just ***** but it’s to muffle her cries and make him seem less guilty
it’s the third man she’s been with and she’s confused about counting it, she didn’t say yes but she still has to guess whether she should remember this and try to grow or remember it and let it cover the glow
Husband smiling down at his wife’s baby bump:
He wonders if it will be a boy or a girl
He wonders if it will be a man or a girl
He wonders if it will be his son or a girl,
A girl… a gender he disconnects from because they come with topics that people should keep away from
If it’s a boy he can congratulate him when he brings home a girl
But… if it’s a girl he’ll have to warn her about boys
Boys will be boys and girls should beware.
He wonders how he would cope if his little boy blue decided to wear pink
How he would cope if his son, this man sat crying in his room and was too afraid to say.
He looks down at his wife’s baby bump and wonders…
She looks in the mirror and can’t bare what she sees.
He says that she’s perfect but she can’t see how that can be.
You see to her, her face is too round and her chest is too flat
When she looks at her hips all she can see is fat.
He sees her raven hair and blue ocean eyes that hold nothing but care
He sees her heart through her chest and her love for all things
He sees his person the one that is perfect.
I feel your arms around me, but turn and you’re gone
I feel your breath on my neck, soon replaced with the cold draught
I see the scratches on your back but open my eyes and see the bruises on mine
They’re matched with the scratch running up my side from the night I made you mad
Your face burned red and your hand was raised as I cowered and feared and cried
He said things that broke me but now my mascara is too expensive to be ruined by his harsh words
I told them I was broken but they passed it off as a bad day and all they could say was
July 4th 1776 a simple man’s holiday
December 6th 1865 a true man’s celebration
Unalienable rights became truly unalienable
“We the people” stopped meaning “we the white people”
or did it
August 10th 2017 a supremacist’s torch is lit
August 10th 2017 three people did get hit
March 8th 2018 a woman fights back
2018 maybe now they’ll understand
Beware his smile that traps all the girls around him
Regret the feelings that you wish you could forget
Envy the girl with her arms around his neck
Never look back it’ll only break your heart more
Deny that you still love him, it’ll only cause you pain
Envy the girl with her arms around his neck
Never forget how it felt when he called you stunning even if it hurts
Who have I become, I don’t like this version of myself, the version of myself that you have pushed me to become.
We spoke 24/7 let me say that again 24/7… twenty-four hours seven days a week for nearly a year and then it just stopped.
Did you get bored?
Did you finally have enough of messing with the feelings of a girl who was completely and hopelessly devoted to you.
You moved on and I hated you for it. I hated you because I was still completely and hopelessly devoted to you, I still had hope that it was all a bad dream and I would wake up to sunshine and glow instead of the clouds of grey that now “shine” over my life.
I saw you for the first time the other day since, well since, that day when time stopped and I stopped dead in my tracks when I got the message “this girl I’m seeing.”
Those four words tore me and I could feel the physical pain of heartbreak. That’s when everything changed, I became a person that I look at in the mirror and don’t feel anything towards.
I used to look every morning and hope.
People have an ideology about hope that it looks and makes you look beautiful and youthful, almost innocent, but hope as far as I’m concerned can go and take a hike.
Hope was the shackles that caged me from being the true me. Now I said at the beginning that I don’t like this version of myself.
This is still true but I’ve grown comfortable with being her and that ones on you.