i would like to pretend
i can stay put,
my heart is full and rooted.
i feel my love has grown great arms,
branches stretching to embrace the enormity of your passion.
even still, the seed blooms.
i will never out of shame
and also of guilt
and partially of care
but not of love.
i fear i begin to understand my parents
both of them sinners
does that make me a monster?

the first time
i was 15
hands grabbed my budding *******
a warm breath on my neck

the second time
i was 18
he flipped me over
held me down
after he questioned why i bled

the third time
i was 21
he told me to be good
that he wanted me to make him proud
off came my shirt
forced my mouth to do things i didn't want

hands feel like boulders even now
/nothing ever changes/
tongues feel like battering rams
/i am estranged/
it's like i have a neon sign pointing at me
/i feel deranged/
saying "hurt me"
in flashing lights

People keep getting tired of me
then they leave
what they don't know
is that i am tired too
but i always choose to stay