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 Jun 2014 Amanda Parker
Muted
I've become used to chipped nail polish
Accustomed to tapping my feet and fingers
Never smiling
Biting my lip until I taste that
oh, so familiar,
morsel of blood

I'm used to being nervous
am I good enough?
I'm used to rejection
I'm not good enough

But, he never rejected me

I hide myself under an ugly sweater
an itchy, ugly sweater
And what lies beneath the sweater,
makes me nervous

Everything makes me nervous.

But, he accepted me
and my ugly sweater

I expect to hurt
I'm used to putting a bandage
wherever it stings
Hoping it heals
Only to pick at the scabs
When I'm nervous

But, he never hurt me

I've become used to being abandoned
I accepted the fact that
no one can love me
And I'm too nervous to love others

But,

When I met him,
I stopped chipping at my nail polish
I quit tapping my fingers and feet
I refrained from biting my lip
All of my scabs healed
I wasn't afraid to go outside
I was no longer afraid to take the elevator
He loved who I was
And I was able to love him in return
And
I smiled
Even under my ugly sweater
 Jun 2014 Amanda Parker
Muted
Blind.
Mute.
Surely not deaf.

I long for metal clicks

The leather belts.
The tears and welts.

On these things, I'm affixed.

— The End —