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.
I sat on the side of the hospital bed waiting for the tubes to be removed
I sat on the side of the hospital bed praying for you to breathe
I sat on the side of the hospital bed hoping for you to live
I sat on the side of the hospital bed happy your pain had been relieved
They said it’s okay to be sad
I sit on the side of your grave praying for a sign
I sit in the rain praying for more time
I sit in the coffee shop reading a book I thought you might like
I sit in an office waiting for a chat
They say that crying helps
I cry out to the heavens why
I cry out if you love me then why did you leave
I cry and sob and break
I sat on the side of your hospital bed, I sit in the rain, I cry out for help
I wish that I could forget
Forget everything from the pain you caused in my head to the pain you’ve caused in my chest
Just a general pain that I wish I could forget
I wish I could forget
Forget the way you’ve looked at me when you think I’m not focused
Forget the smile plastered on your face to the tears that roll down mine
These things that I wish I could forget
I wish that I could feel something
My heart is broken, my trust demolished and everyone is now stuck an arm’s length away
I wish that I could stop feeling this numb
I wish that could close my eyes
Close them without an image of you finding its way into my mind
Your sea blue eyes matched with beach blonde hair, that I said I never liked
I wish that I could close my eyes
Was I not okay?
Was my smile not enough or my eyes and wit and charm
Was my hope for us too much, so much so that you felt a need
A need to disarm the situation and run away from confrontation
Leave me alone and wondering why
I say I'm fine but still the only thing that I can do is cry
There's no way to sugar-coat it
You broke my heart
She wears long sleeves to hide her scars he smokes a cigarette in the back of his car. They’ve been pushed to the point of wanting it all to end. They have an unborn child which they don’t know yet, it was a one night stand that left her with regret.
They don’t feel like they can raise a child but those two pink lines make her feel better now, it’s a fresh start and a second chance for him to be a better man than what he is now and what his father was growing up a chance to wake up every morning next to the woman he loves.
She’s afraid of the mother she will be, afraid that her little girl will be sitting in her room alone comforted by an empty bottle and a blade with so many tears streaming down her child’s face just like hers did.
9mm that’s the size of a bullet fired by police,
It could be in self-defence,
It wouldn’t matter.
Cameras and press are pressed for time and need to get a front-page article out,
“Chicago policeman shoots man” is what they go with
Never mind that man killed three girls aged 10 – 12 but not before they were violently abducted.
Police to avoid this happening to another child raided the house with the wallpaper faded.
He shot at them first and when the policeman fired back he signed his resignation because no-one wanted to hear his apology in front of the whole nation.
NRA and the 2nd amendment are giving everyone an easy excuse,
It’s written into the constitution therefore it must be okay,
But let me tell you something real quick:
Slavery was legal
Segregation was legal
Does that make it okay?
And here is where we sit right now on that fine line of it being moral and it being legal
Her heartbeat fades away from my mind as I leave the doctor’s office for the last time
“it’s perfectly normal,” they said when I complained about the blood and the pain
“it’s okay to be anxious,” said the doctor as she ran some tests
“it’s not your fault,” she said as she delivered the results
I had failed my duty as a woman in the world
My baby will not grow, ****, she won’t even be born
All I could bring myself to do was sit on the nursery floor and mourn
“it’s not your fault,” he comforted me through the self-blame that I took on
“but it is, because my body wasn’t strong or in good enough health”
I lay awake for hours afraid to close my eyes,
Because every time I did, that first ultrasound appeared in my mind
Her heartbeat is now an echo that I hear on repeat, soft and faded
It was haunting to say the least…
A girl lies *****, bruised and bleeding on the bathroom floor. She’ll say she was ***** but it’ll be her who’ll take the fall. The football team will still play that Friday night and she’ll be accused of telling hysterical lies.
“She was breaking the dress code” you were breaking the law, violation of the law gets you a court sentence but rich parents get you good lawyers who get you off free, she’ll never be free to walk the streets home alone fearing that every time she looks into a man’s eyes she will see the image of you as she prayed for help but was instead preyed on by the Prom King Predator.
Her bruises whether they be physical or not are hers to reveal and if you feel the need to go around telling her story then you’re an ***, “she had a sweet ***” you had sweet talk which made her feel safe and then suddenly she felt betrayed. So she’s a ***** if she sleeps with a guy even if it wasn’t consensual but when you sleep with a girl you’re a playa and did a good job on hitting that; you going to bang her? ***** her? Nail her?
The words used to describe it are almost as violent as the act done upon her.
There was pain in her voice but her body betrayed her, it portrayed pleasure when all she felt was agony. The pain in her voice was clear to those around her but the pleasure was all they focused on, the pleasure is what caused her the feeling of being ashamed for the next four years until she could open up to someone.
Around school she was known as the quiet girl, the girl without a story, this was true in a sense because her story like most was never told.
The girl who was strong, her body parts strength shining through on her face
The girl who was strong, her smile sending goose bumps over every one’s arms
The girl who was strong, her heart beating slowly as she lay down for bed
The girl who was strong, her mother watched over stroking her bald head
The girl who was strong, and she never woke up
The girl who was strong, just not strong enough
— The End —