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One -Breath- Two -Breath- Three -Breath- Four -Breath-
One time was too many
And certainly too early because in February I would have been 13 for less than half a year
To early for me to be photographed by police that referred to me as the victim rather than a survivor
Or much less my name
-Breath-
Two was not as bad as it could have been
It was just a dark room with my mouth filled with someone elses yes rather than air
I’m just glad someone walked in when they did
-Breath-
Three was scary
Because its scary to wake up still drunk screaming no,
Your whole body shaking to a rhythm someone has trapped you in
He bragged to his friends that he kept me screaming all night
-Breath-
Four was an accident that I could have prevented by keeping myself in a safe situation
But why should I have to decide not to have fun so someone won’t take advantage of my high
I remember saying no
-Breath-
And a quiet no should be just as powerful as a screamed no but it seems that
These four men didn’t have an understanding of the word
I say men, not boys because not a single one of these “men” were 18 or younger
What made them decide my body was their property
Did one know that
He would affect me for the rest of my life?
He was the first boy I “fell in love with”
I have always tried to convince myself that there was some good in him
Did two know that he would make me scared to be alone in a room with another boy
Scared that having the lights off made my no invalid
Did three know that he would make me wary of playing drinking games with friends
Scared that there was no safety in the home of someone I knew, my neighbor
Did four know that he would ruin my trust of going over to a boys house
I thought he was a nice boy, he worked at the grocery store and had seen me shopping with my mother
I had told people where I was going, I just wanted to watch a movie
But before the main character was even introduced his hand was unzipping my dignity
I said no
But I guess they learned to never take no for an answer
Two months --
And a maybe
68 days --
And a .1% chance
Eight more days
To take upwards of three
tests to see
If my life --
Our life --
Is changing
Or maybe I was right the first time, Just mine
Because when I told you about worry
You told me about clinics
When I talked about
Talking to parents
You told me you didn't even want your mom to know
Seventeen and Sixteen
You tell me you don't want to be a statistic
Another cliche
But I don't want to be a graveyard
I don't want to grow flowers either
You asked me why I'm worried now
And I have no words to describe the feeling in my gut
The odd sense of paranoia
With no evidence for my worry
A little over 9 weeks
And a trembling thought
2632 hours
And anxious feelings
-P.S. I'm keeping it-
It's not about the number of poems
I make but about touching
hearts of those in need of
an invisible hand and
about
improving
the quality
of my touch...
So I'd rather
have one piece touch 1000 souls
than a 1000 pieces that won't
send out even a single ripple
to the million limpid hearts...
I'm all about squeezing a smile
out of those hardened by grief
subsequently finding self relief
Time is strong, goes its way
while you fragile creature
hang on to the edges-
move within parameters
a voice hoarse with poems
skin each moment ageing
a heart hopefully growing
in love, understanding, freedom.
It's not what you say
It's how it hits me
It's not how you say it
It's how it stays with me
All in all it comes down to
Its not what you say
It's what you do

All my life I'll remember you
Until I die I'll remember you

It's not what it means
It's what it means to me
It's not how you move
It's how you move through me
All in all it comes down to
It's not how you feel
It's how I feel you

All my life I'll keep on loving you
Until I die I know it's true
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