-to be human is to sin

you tell me that good people are everywhere
but where are all these good people
when the facts are screaming
"emergency, emergency"
"alert, alert"
when the facts say
that almost every ******* this planet
has at least once in her life
been touched in a way she didn't consent to
the facts say that most ****** predators
are known to the children
fathers;
fathers have ***** their daughters
while mothers cry silently
because the world does not want to hear
the stories under the blanket
the guilt and the shame
the pain.
the pain.

you say there are good people
show me
show me
that boy who gives to charity
his hand rode up my skirt last week
that girl who prays five times a day
she watched as her boyfriend called me a *****

my five year old cousin knows what it's like to be penetrated

i lost my virginity before i got my period

my best friend doesn't want to be touched because she sees her ******'s face in every man

i was blackmailed by a boy who said he wanted to marry me

my mom;
my mom and i have bonded over
what it feels like
to have
a man inside you
who doesn't
doesn't
belong there

what kind of god wants an empty heaven?
because the kind of people on this earth
the filthy **** who carved their names between my thighs
there are too many
there are too many
men who have done
women who have watched
silent observers
silent thieves
murderers
no one says anything
then they pray to god
but their sins
their sins are on my skin
see me
see me as i burn
see me as i burn
because if these repenters
who have lived their lives
hurting others
who say their grace
then stuff their ***** in my face
if these repenters
are who i will find in heaven
then i do not want to go
i do not want to go
to a heaven with them
i do not want to go
to a paradise
that looks a whole lot like hell

but if god
chooses to not forgive these repenters
then heaven will be empty
because we are sinners
we are all sinners
we ask for forgiveness
then do it again

i have lied
i have cheated
i have wished ill upon another

tell me; am i good person?
was he a good person?
when he ***** me then apologized
when he ***** me then prayed
when he ***** me then cried
and said he made a mistake

when he ***** me
said sorry
and did it again.

if he makes it to heaven
i'll take the other train
if he does not
then none of us will
because our devils are too clean
and our angels too *****

i'm not quite sure if i'm looking for repentance or for revenge
i have done wrong and i have been wronged
is there a place for me in heaven?

what kind of god wants an empty heaven?
what kind of god wants a heaven full of sinners?

where is the god that will love me?

where is the god that will forgive me?

words like bullets.

i don't want them to hit me.
i don't want to bleed.

i don't want you to hurt me.
i don't want you to shoot.

i don't want
you to
wake up/
get out of bed/
get dressed/
look at me like that/
close your eyes/
turn around/
turn back/
speak/
turn around/
leave.

but your tongue's on
the trigger,
and my heart's beating fast.
and i'm closing my eyes,
counting seconds,
counting sheep
because you can't hurt me
when i'm asleep.

i won't feel a thing.

you're pulling the trigger
and my mouth is quieting the racing bullets,
but although they're muffled they still hit my ears,
the pain travelling to my heart.

i bite your tongue too hard
and you bleed into my mouth
and i try to forget that you said

"i'm sorry."

and i watch you,
everything in me
still.

everything in me
is
lifeless.

i ran out of therapy and never went back.
no, it wasn't because i was afraid to talk about my problems
talk to me, talk to me about my anxiety and depression
talk to me about the slight hint of an eating disorder which i've carried in my sleeve ever since i was ten years old
talk to me about my fear of men and my need for their approval
i know my demons and i know them well,
i don't need to hide from them
i learnt how to face them ever since they stared back at me whenever i looked in the mirror and got tangled in the curls of my hair and i'm assuming they're hidden in the knots of my mind too

i ran out of therapy and never went back not because of my diseases but because of the fear of never finding a cure
you see i've tried the pills and i've tried the "lifestyle changes" and the yoga and meditation and all that
i've tried enduring it, i've tried ignoring it, i've tried fighting it
i've numbed it, i've hurt it, i've eaten it whole
but i've never tried to talk it out to a soul that has the potential to understand my soul
i talked to my best friend who recognized my demons because they inflict(ed?) her too and she listened and helped but she couldn't fix me, you understand?
and so i talked to my mom and she was a kind soul until she wasn't and said i was an ungrateful *****
then there was my favorite teacher who told me i needed help and that he wasn't equipped to do so
my boyfriend is still in denial, i think,
he listens though, a lot

but at the end of every failed attempt at a cure lies the same suggestions
"talk to someone, get therapy"
and i let myself believe that that was where the problem to all my solutions
no, sorry, i mean the solution to all my problems was
so i always had a back up, you see?
i always knew that when the sleeping pills didn't help me sleep
and when the yoga position did nothing more than pull a muscle
i always had a back up,
i'd call the therapist
i'd pull out the bigguns
and i'd be ok
because she had all the solutions
(the therapist has to be a girl, remember my fear of men?)
so the therapist always had all the solutions and so if i ever needed to be ok
i knew where to go

only that one day when stuff got bad
and i mean 4 hours in the ER with a morphine drip bad
i was sent to the therapist and ****
****
****
****
she was a good woman, you know?
a good woman with kids and a nice house and a cat and a dog who lived in harmony
all that great stuff
and she asked me about my family and all that
and i smiled and told her all that
and an hour and a half went past
and i felt really sleepy
like really sleepy
and still heavy and sad
and i said listen, woman, this costs way more than i can afford
so i need you to fix me in the next session
i'm sorry
she replies
in that therapist voice
(i HATE that voice)
i'm sorry
this will take months
weekly session
oh,
and you haven't paid yet
so please pay at the counter
and starting January
the fees for the sessions double
just a warning
then she led me out
and i saw her dog
and her cat
and her bookshelves
and they weren't the solution
they didn't help
there wasn't a magic pill
or if there was she didn't give it to me
and this would take time
time i didn't have
money i didn't have
i am not rich enough to be sick
i have work to do
i can't sit here and feel crap
i need a solution
i thought she was my solution
i thought she was my solution

i ran out of therapy and never went back
i tell myself the reason i'm still ****** in the head is because i didn't go through the whole course of therapy
that feel good
telling myself that feels good
because i still have a solution
my new solution is months of therapy
which i still haven't tried
and i never will
because i can't go to therapy and not get fixed
because i'll have nothing left then
i won't have hope then
i need hope now
i need hope more than cure now
so i think if i go to therapy long enough, i'll be cured
but i'll never go to therapy long enough
because i know somewhere inside that that isn't the answer
but i'll tell myself it is
i'll force myself to believe it is
ok therapy will help
when i spend the money and the time
it will it will
i will
be fixed
i can be fixed
there is hope.

they say the moon hasn't been this close to us since 1948.
after hundreds of cycles and phases, maybe it waited for just the right moment
just so you and i could share this one.

it's gravity pulls me closer, like the tides that separate us both.
but tonight, it's sliver fingers interlock mine with yours
and i feel the warmth in my palms even as the cold whips around me.

i feel like i could just pluck it right out of the velvet night
and hold it in my hands for a moment before i give it you
in all its full and glowing glory that reminds me so much of you.

i'm glad that we live under the same sky.
i wonder if you are looking at it the same time i am.
because for once, you don't seem so far away anymore.

When I think of man
I think strength
Power

Indestructibility

The boy that I love
He walks so mean
His arms
The veins bulge
And his eyes
Are so sharp

I wonder
Do men get sick?

I am the female
Days of illness
Wrapped in bed and
Hot water bottles
Aspirin and morphine
Are my best friends

I am frail
Small
Fragile, possibly

But man
Man does not hurt
Does not cry
Does not crumble
Man stands strong
Man does not fall
Man cannot fall

Man is power.