Forgive me for my mistakes
for all the times I messed up

Forgive me for your pain
for all the times I caused it

Forgive me for my little mistakes
that of course you also have made

But what you will never say to me is

Forgive Me.

Your words passed down to your line of girls
they take in every breath you breathe and try to please you.
Side by side you all walked passed me
ignoring my tears and blood from my scars as they stream down my body

trying to brush me off your shoulder
trying to make sure I noticed you not noticing me
This didn't last a day
this didn't last a week
This situation fades into today.
2 years later.

I may have made mistakes
but you never admitted you did

I may have given you a minute of pain
but you gave me 2 years of it

Forgive me for trusting you again
forgive me for being unstable
forgive me for my scars on my arm that you clearly see...but you will convince yourself that you never caused them

But please...forgive me for trying to make you say...

Forgive me.

Before reading this I want people to know that I have never been *****.
I got the inspiration for this poem from a post on tumblr.*

One
After the first time he put his hands on her
she never thought she'd be able to escape the grasp of the feeling
she stayed up till 3:41 in the morning in the bathtub
sitting in the scalding water
trying to burn the dirt from her skin.
she sat there until the water turned cold
and she had not one tear left to cry
and until her skin was rubbed raw and bleeding.
she counted the bruises on her body
9 on her stomach
1 on her face
1 on her neck
a yellow and purple necklace around her collar
from the telephone wire he abused
from the telephone she didn't dare use
even after he finished manipulating her.
she scrubbed his fingers from her hair
but decided cutting it off would be easier
she washed his yelling voice from her ears
but found that screaming made him quieter
she scraped his taste from her lips
a dry martini
a cigarette
and someones tears from the past.
she couldn't scrub her wrists hard enough
to erase the feeling of the ropes he had her anchored with
so instead she sliced the flesh of where the imprint lay
attempting to release the strain from the burn marks on her skin.

Two
That same morning when she almost bled out
she checked herself into a hospital.
They sewed up the crimson bracelets she made
trapping inside of her wrists
each scream he muffled
with every new stitch.
she guessed they figured out what happened
whether it was the bruises
or the way her speech sounded like morse code but
they told her the police were informed
and that they'd do everything in their power to find monster
who opened the door to her own personal hell.
When the sketch artist asked her to describe him
she told her he was a photocopy
the regular John Doe
medium hight
brown hair brown eyes
nothing special or unique that would make a girl cross to the other side of the street
just like she said she should have done.
When they told her she needed to be inspected
she didn't even flinch
that seemed to be the only thing that people did these days
was inspect one another for an outcome that they'll be paid for
in paychecks or pleasure.
They stripped her down
apologizing for the cold
they took pictures
apologizing for the flash
they held her hand
apologizing for the feeling
but why apologize if he already imprinted it on her body
there's no going back from this
she will never be able to look at a man the same way again
she will always see cold hard hands on her shoulders
even at the warmest touch
she will only see flashes of his lips forced onto hers
when she receives the smallest peck
she will never be able to feel anything but a mattress beneath her back
rope around her wrists
and a freezing cold emptiness inside of her stomach.

Three
After the second time he put his hands on her
she stayed up all night in the freezing cold water
not even trying to remove his mark from her.
she figured that if the dirt beneath his fingernails were still there the second time
the dirt would still be on her too.
she let the filth engulf her
telling herself that all she was was dirt anyway
and as she lay with her head underwater
she screamed as loud as she could
for as long as she could
until her face was red
her voice was scratchy
till the veins in her neck pulsed
and when she finally sat up she was deafened by a deep silence
with no more sound than rippling water and the ticking of the clock.
That's when she realized that no matter how loud she screamed
she would never be heard amongst other peoples silences.
silences full of beeping cars and TV commercials
buzzing air conditioners and clinking plates
quite whispers and loud laughs
full of family and friends and the whole world spinning around them.
she would never matter to anyone
no brakes would squeal at the sound of her desperation
no ears would turn to decipher the morse code she mustered shakily from her lips
no one would ever care that her screams for help were muffled
and no one would have a hole in their stomach if she disappeared.
at this thought
she slipped deeper into the tub
unwraps the bandages from around both her wrists
uncovering scars that would never heal.
She explored the wounds with her fingers
and saw how weak the stitching was
like the nurse who repaired her found it pointless
and attempted it half heartedly.
She discovered that pulling the dark material that was woven through her flesh
would release her blood
like opening a door to another universe.
the purple would quickly turn to red
drop slowly into the tub
creating a water color painting of the war inside her head.
She pinched the strings holding the two parts of her together
******* their rough surface
she began to feel tired
dreaming of a happier place
of a happier her
of feeling like a person again.
she pinched the string
and pulled.
hard.

The moment he rejected you the first time
I saw a little part of you break
like the icicles in your eyes were melted with a self destructive hate fire
burning dangerously with the unrequited desire
for his love.
I want to tell you you're perfect.
On the times he moved closer to you at the lunch table
I saw the way your body stiffened
I could see the mental checklist being ticked
making sure you had the grocery list of the things that you wanted
the things you thought he needed.
I want to tell you you're perfect.
He fluttered your heart with his smile
making you realize that this spell he put you under isn't temporary
no matter how many times he knocks you down
you'll always go back for more.
I want to tell you you don't need him.
Where other girls want to undress him with their eyes
to see the chiseled swimmers body armor created from
years of waking up before sunlight
all you want is to strip the armor from his skin
to see if what lies underneath the charm
is really as soft and sweet as it is in your dreams.
I want to tell you he doesn't matter.
The day he asked out another girl in front of you
you tell me you need a friend
you say you don't even know how to stop crying
you say it hurt so bad
choking back tears is causing you to choke out that it's killing you
and it just kills me when you say that you feel so pointless
but you're infinitely perfect to me
so I make sure that you know how pointless he is too
and that if he can't even see through his glasses to realize how beautiful you are
then he might as well be as blind as a bat.
I want to tell you you're perfect.
even though you say your importance can be rationed out in teaspoons
I tell you that no amount of measuring cups could ever measure how much you mean to me
I want to tell you that your shine is like the one light in powerless city
gifting those in the dark with the wonders of your intelligence
and with the beauty of the way in which you look at the world
I want you to know that you're perfect.
I want to tell you I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for not noticing all the times that your lip was white beneath your teeth
or the way your eyes stung from the acidity of rejection
causing tears to form around the red insides of your eyelids
I'm sorry I wasn't there to wipe those tears off your face like I always promised I'd be.
I'm sorry for the time that you had to ask for me to listen
because the invisible rules written by love
in the book of friendship in my mind
say that you shouldn't have to ask for me to uncover my ears
they should always be open
and so should my arms
because that's what friends are for.
I want  to tell you you're perfect.
I want to tell you I'm sorry.
I want you to know that putting layers of make up on your face
makes him fall in love with a copy of every unoriginal
girl he's ever dated but you
my friend
you are not a copy
you are not unoriginal
you are a story
you are amazing
and you should never let your self feel like any less.