Is there ever a greater melancholy
than permanent second?
Second best,
Second choice,
Second family.
All these things I am,
A second-hand human being.

No matter how hard and harder I try,
I remain inferior till I die.
A second-hand human being,
Not worth the greatest form of praising.

So as I stand above this bridge,
I recall all my 'almosts',
All my 'what ifs' and 'could haves',
To decide once and for all:
What if I jump a second time?

Sometimes I think of killing myself
How the end would be so nice
How the darkness would swallow me up
And how the numbness would suffice
My need

For all the voices of the feelings
That constantly keep me reeling
To softly slow to a hush
As my brain starts tur-tur-turning into mush

How wonderful it would be
To have that powerful silence
Not even grasshoppers would bother
To wake me

My cells would stop dividing
My brain would stop the lying
Myself would stop denying
What I truly want

But but but
This is just a reckless fantasy
A way to elude one’s own reality

Because as I sit here on the floor
Tears drip drip dropping
I realize there’s those who care for me more
Cherish me more
Love me more
Than I love my own self

The crickets chirp
I put the pills down

His lips danced over my neck,
And I pretended they were yours,
His hands grabbed at my body,
And I pretended they were yours,
And when he kissed me,
He was a thirsty man roaming a desert,
With no water for days,
I was his water,
quenching his thirst,
But I didn't want water,
I wanted wine,
I wanted what I couldn't have,
And pretended to be satisfied with what I could take.

When I cried,
He held me, protected me,
And didn't ask why,
He didn't need to know,
He just knew I was his light but he wasn't mine.
He knew he couldn't illuminate me the way you do,
He knew he couldn't set me on fire,
Like your eyes do,
He knew I was forever bound by the darkness your presence left me.

His words didn't fill me,
Like yours did,
How easily he agreed with everything I said,
And how beautiful he found my mind to be,
He smiled when I told a bad joke,
And laughed when I said I could rap,
He didn't confuse me like you did,
He didn't hide from me,
Or go against my current,
He just knew I was an ocean he wanted to go along with,
And get lost in,
You thought I was stupid,
And had too much water,
You wanted something simpler,
Because you were a forest,
Complex and full of secrets.

He hates you,
He hate what you do to me,
He hates how you speak to me,
He hates how I feel stupid whenever you scold me,
He hates how I whisper your name when he makes love to me,
He hates how I let you hurt me over and over,
He hates how much he loves me,
He hates how much I don't love him,
He hates how my heart doesn't belong to him.

Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t just been the backseat of your car,
Intoxicated. My first drunk hook up. My first. Period.
I picture myself being champagne on Valentine’s Day.
I picture myself being you, nervous in the car, holding Starbucks
because you know I love coffee. Sometimes, I picture myself as her,
calling you a stalker and ignoring your calls,
but then I see myself. I call you beautiful,
turn you into poetry, laugh at your bad jokes,
I see myself as I become your drunk Wednesday night
when you’re sad. I see myself as I say no,
I become a “this is not a good idea”
and you a “we’ll deal with the consequences in the morning.”
We laugh because this hurts too much.
You take her out for dinner and I burrow money
for Plan B because you forgot you don’t like condoms
and clearly have no idea how children are made.
I have already named him. He has your curls and
my anxiety. He is smart. Except, I never wanted kids and
you would be a great father. Instead, you tell her
the beach reminds you of her and I cry in a McDonald’s
bathroom with my friend as relief floods through me that
the test comes negative. I stop talking to you,
move forward, meet someone new and before long
see myself becoming you. Because isn’t that the cycle?
Bad men turn good women into bad women who turn
good men into bad men. I’ll set him free so he can hurt
someone like me, and I drink red wine as I read her
poems about him and me.

My name is Erin
and i was *****
at the age of 7

it has taken me
14 years of my life
for those 13 words to escape
my hollow mouth

the only questions i come to now
is why
why lock me in that room
why take everything from me
my innocence
my purity
my childhood

in that room
where my family trusted you
where i trusted you
the night terrors i have to this day
still haunt my mind

like a never ending
drive in movie that plays
over
and
over
only the moon in the night sky
isnt made to be found here
there is no light in these terrors

i cant sleep this time of year
because every time i do
its you
in that room
locking the door
shutting the windows
******* me
yelling at me
every single night
i close my eyes

it has taken me 14 years
to accept the fact that i was taken by you
i have been numb ever since
left in the dust
rotting away at the core
thinking i was nothing
thinking i deserved nothing
because you took everything

but not anymore
i will recover from this
i am strong enough
i believe in myself
i believe in my own happiness
and i promsie
that when i have children one day
i will never ever let them rot at the core
i will find happiness
the darkness will not take over this time