When you told me you loved me
I thought that meant every part.
But when I told you I was pregnant
you started choosing which parts deserved
to be loved
and which parts did not.

My wrists still hurt from
the day you grabbed my arm
and my cuts opened up
underneath my sleeve.
I pulled away
but I didn't mention the pain
because how do you tell someone
who has never shed a drop of blood in
their life,
that every part of you is bleeding.

I would love you if I could,
but I swear to god
his hands still glide over
my body in the night.
And his breath still
warms my neck when I'm alone.
I still feel his eyes watching me as
I shower.
I still hear him crying saying he's sorry.
But most of all
I still hear myself telling him its okay.

I love you more than anything in this world
but how am I supposed to show it when
every day it feels like I'm being ***** all over again.

I don't understand the word ‘love’ because
when I was 13 years old I was forced to believe in it as my brother shoved the wrong definition between my thighs.

My wrists still burn from 7th grade
when the entire school laughed at me
for having *** with my brother.
But they didn't know how ******* sick it really was
and they didn't know I didn't want it.
So I ran out of class and sat on the bathroom floor,
carving my skin with my favorite earrings
that started off silver but slowly turned red.
I told you I don't wear earrings anymore.

My throat still hurts from the time I tried to drink drain cleaner
but it was so bitter i spit it all out and it ran down my chin.
So I slept all day and all night
because I cried so hard I couldn't keep my eyes open.
I wonder if that's what you taste on my lips,
Salty tears and bitter chemicals.
Is that why we never kiss?

My neck is still bruised from when I was 11 years old
and hung a jump rope from the ceiling in my basement
and tied it in a knot around my neck.
But soon as I jumped off the chair I ******* fell to the floor
with nothing but a rope burn beneath my chin.
It wasn't the feeling I wanted and I cried so long and violently,
I thought my head would explode.
Does it make sense that I don’t like heights?
Maybe that's why I'm afraid of bridges.

My lungs are still full of water from 2011
when I tried to drown myself in the bathtub.
But the water wasn't very deep and it was hard to stay under.
I could feel myself getting dizzy as my head popped back to surface.
So I stood up,
shampoo still in my hair,
and I washed everything down the drain besides my self.
When I told you I don't know how to swim,
I actually meant I'm too afraid to learn.

My ******* still hurt from the boy who thought getting me drunk would make me take my clothes off.
And I hate to say it but it ******* worked.
But what he didn't realize is that at 15 years old,
I would have gotten naked for him anyways.
I would have touched him even if
I wasn't influenced to pour
shots down my throat and coke up my nose.
I didn't have a chance to say yes or no.
I just wanted to have fun and try to forget everything I was wanting
to **** myself for.
But I ended up with a heartless human being on top of me calling me a *****
while I lie motionless about to *****.
When I got home,
my chest was black and blue but I didn't cry this time
because by then I was too ******* numb to care about anything.
I told you I don't like to drink.
I told you my body aches.

My hands are still sore from when I got sent to rehab and met a boy who liked it when I touched him.
He only came out of his room when the nurses helped him walk.
His face was so white you could almost see through him and he only spoke when he wanted to feel me.
Every night at dinner I would put my hands down his pants underneath the table,
until he stopped eating dinner with us.
He was addicted to something bad and he just kind of stopped waking up.
I got sent home but I don't think he ever left.
I waited months for that boy to call.
But he never did.
Every one disappeared
*And now I'm doing the same to you.

If people were art,

You would be a page from a child's coloring book
hanging on the refrigerator.
Different colors filling the page.
An explosion of
red, orange, yellow,
green, purple and blue.
Everything leaking out of the lines you were meant
to contain yourself in.
A green sun and yellow grass,
none of it makes much sense.
And that is exactly what makes you
worth looking at.

But if people were art,

I would be a watercolor that got too wet,
and now the paper is wrinkled
and the picture distorted.
The paint bleeding into itself,
as the paper starts to tear.

He gave me an entire solar system
when all I asked for was a star.

All he gave me was a star
when I needed an entire solar system.