i want to see
all the glorious things
that are in store for me
so i must stay alive

i want to finish
all the books i put down
and never opened again
and then some more

i want to walk through forests
through meadows and mountain trails
through ocean water
through creeks in autumn

i want to draw every beautiful face
every soul worth remembering
photograph every pink-orange sunset
every smile of my dearly beloved

i want to write my poems
maybe they are only mediocre at best
but they give me a little outlet
channel out the ***** water into something beautiful

i want to fall in love
for real this time and not with someone toxic
someone real and genuine and kind
maybe it will be myself

i want my mind to be on my side
who else will guide me if not my own judgement
i need to have strength and clarity
i need to get better

i have weathered the storms
maybe more are to come
but i think i can move forward
and not forget the lessons learned

how will i ever
lead a beautiful life
if i am preoccupied
with the idea
that i am not

i don’t know how to speak
i always get so scared
feeling perpetually threatened
in every social situation
i speak too much too deeply
about taboo or personal things
or not at all
sometimes my mouth is bone dry
but i still feel
the sensation of choking

boy number one.

it was the end of eighth grade
coming in from gym class
i remember it was a hot day in may
i was still wearing the black uniform shorts
you were walking behind me in line
snaked your hands up the back of my thighs
as your friends laughed along
at my bright red cheeks
my shaky voice telling you off
and i got to wear teary eyes to the last class of the day
i wasn’t the only girl
and four years later you’re still doing it
my mom told me
that’s what boys do when they like you
and that’s why i never told her
about any of the other boys

boy number two.

i was barely fourteen years old
and it was just you and me
and your ***** (laced?) ****
you told me to hit it
again and again
there i was
twitching in your backseat
your hands on my convulsing thighs
i took the marks home
where you ripped my shirt off
you told me they’d go away
i still have the memories
they are the same each time i relive them
i trusted you

boy number three.

it is safe to say i loved you
for a long while
even after all you put me through
i now understand
coercion does not equal consent
you’d beg me
and i would say no
you made me feel so guilty
but you’d always kiss me right after
(that doesn’t make it okay)
i wish that i had a bigger backbone
and said no
when you asked to come over last month
you said you’ve changed
but you haven’t
and your new girlfriend doesn’t seem to mind
(i don’t forgive you anymore)

boy number four.

every time i would say no
you would laugh
and keep going
just because i said yes once
does not mean yes every time
im glad i called it quits with you
and i will do the same
to any other person
who does anything like you

my daddy says it’s okay to be a lesbian
my daddy says a ******* a girl is hot
the same way whiskey sinking to your belly is hot

daddy why would you fetishize my love
why would you fetishize my family
daddy why do you love to drink every night

and what are you so afraid of

i wish i had
more confidence,
some self esteem,
a sense of happiness that isn’t fleeting.

i feel most empty
as i silently lust after
people unaware of my presence
and how i truly feel.

i would rather play on the safe side
than get too close to the flame
and get burned-
again.

i deprive myself
of the things i know i truly want
somehow i am always preoccupied with how they will disappear
rather than savoring them while they are still here.

would it really be so bad
if you kissed me
every once in awhile

i know you think about it

i know you miss me