People ask,
Have you ever loved a man?
I answer no.
But a man sure loved me.
He started to love me when I was young enough to still believe in
Santa.
He loved me being at that age when I
believed that the moon followed me in a car.
The age of scented markers and training bras.
He loved me in the way a rat loved it's poison, or a prisoner their torture.
Wrongly.
And every so often
He showed me how much he loved me.
Behind locked doors with fiery, demanding hands.
Causing me to remember that I was asthmatic.
And when his skin burned me, I felt cold.
So when people ask,
Have you ever loved a man?
I answer no.
But a man sure loved me.

you loved me
when i was too broken
to even love myself.
nights when i was scared to go
home because of the demons
in the walls.
you loved me
even when i blew up your phone
at 3 am with late night calls
mixed with tears and self-hate.
and you never hung up once.
you loved me
even when i had lost everything
i was naked, and alone with nothing else
but myself,
a sad, broken, little monster
invisible to most except you
but still you loved me.
so here i am
still broken, but beautifully
stitched together by your
delicate hand
asking if you will
let me
love you.