Sometimes I fear I am more scar
than skin. More salt than water.
More gun than girl. I play the
piano; black and ivory softly so
you can follow me back to the
cave, to the gardens, to the water.
My body was not touched by
the boy, was not touched by the
girl that ripped out my heart and
ate it. I checked for fingerprints
on the side of my breast, my hip-
bone,the inside of my thighs—
nothing.
Their hands never leave traces,
never leave proof that one day
someone was brave enough to
touch the hills and valleys of my
body. Rachel Wiley said: *******
me does not require an asterisk.
Loving me is not a fetish.
He said: I would do it if you lost
weight. He turns off the light, but
I do not blame him. If he hadn't
reached for it first, I would have.
I keep on my T-shirt, make sure
his hands don't wander to places
I try too hard to forget are there.
They call me fat—I make jokes
about it so they won't. My mother
tells me that it's important to love
yourself even if you don't want
to. I say yes, then count the cuts
on my thigh, then smile.
RACHEL WILEY SAID:
******* ME DOES NOT
REQUIRE AN ASTERISK.
LOVING ME IS NOT A FETISH.
I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY
YOU COULD THINK THAT
FINDING ME ATTRACTIVE
IS SOMETHING TO BE
ASHAMED ABOUT. SOME-
THING YOU WOULDN'T
TELL YOUR MOTHER. YOU
CAN TOUCH ME IN THE
BEDROOM BUT REFUSE
TO HOLD MY HAND. I AM
NOT EXTRA THICK
WRAPPING FOR YOUR ****.
I AM NOT SOMETHING
YOU  LIE ABOUT TO YOUR
FRIENDS. LOVING ME IS
NOT SOMETHING TO HIDE
FROM YOUR SISTER.
LOVING ME IS NOT
SOMETHING TO HIDE.
It is 11:31 PM. I am the girl they
like to **** but not the girl they
like to have wedding pictures of,
hanging on the kitchen wall.
He says: I would do it if you lost
weight.
I say: I would do it if you stopped
acting like I am something to
be ashamed of.
Rachel Wiley said: *I say: “I am
fat.” He says: “No, you are
beautiful.” I wonder why I can
not be both.

You and I
we are imperfect
But your broken edges
fit perfectly around all of mine

You tell me the truth,
That what made you fall for me,
Was me.
Was that I listen,
To you,
Not that I'm willing to shed,
My clothes,
And every shred of self respect,
With them.

You tell me the truth,
That all you needed was my ear,
And my voice,
Not my naked form, my chest,
Against yours,
Not my lips on your lips or my tongue,
In your mouth.

But even now you call,
And I listen,
So won't you tell me the truth?
Do you,
Want me to stop or not?
Are you,
Over me, or aren't you?
Will you,
Keep me in limbo forever?
Because now,
My back will surely break.