I’m tired of being treated the way he treats me
Through his looking glass, I am only an image of a limp retired doll
Something to turn on when he wants to pick at heartstrings,
Or to make me dance for him, my insides tied to his quick fingers
I'm addicted to the way he strokes me with his fingers,
The way he plays me as i sing, scream
with numbing pleasure, the kind you feel reverberate within your chest
But i know he doesn’t feel the same
He only grips me tight when he’s bored, wants entertainment, wants to feel wanted,
He only loves the taste of affection dripping from between my legs
because i give it without question
He knows that he’ll have someone to disappear into when he’s craving the touch of red silk
Or to play with until he becomes bored of yet another game
for him, I smile, I laugh, I act, im easy to manipulate, to use,
But to be used by him felt innocent, felt lightheaded, felt giddy,
The smiles from him were enough to make me feel that i was truly alive
So i listen with interest and concern without him ever doing the same for me
I allowed him into my head before i kissed his,
kept him in my heart before i invited him between my legs
Dreamed of his hands long before i held them
But that was my mistake
allowing someone who i knew couldn’t provide me the love i so desperately craved
that's the cycle we spun in, my smile only used to *** on,
my throat to swallow, and my voice to ask for more
Somewhere deep down, I knew he didn’t feel the chest palpations, he couldn't feel the sun dappled against his skin, didn't care when i tapped out my heartbeat on his chest, my fingers feeling nothing beneath them
And to realize that not only did he not feel these instincts,
But that he does not care about me the same way i care for him,
To realize that im just someone to inhale and exhale,
and return to only when he wants someone to listen and to hold him
But im bitter now, bitter at the sweet i used to be
Because i always give myself to people who don't see my value
And only see someone to use, to watercolor yellow for a while
While they disregard my many emotions, my art, my writings
I thought this time i got it right, but i swerved left yet again,
excusing his harm as a fixable flaw
I ignored all the waving red flags
My red silk used against me

do i love you?
or the idea of you?
why do i have a desire
that stems from my gut
that wants to reach out
and brush
the hair out of your eyes
why do i feel
like i want to breathe in
the same air you do
to grasp at the wings
on your back as i arch
my body into yours
why does my stomach turn
my lungs quiver
hands waver
when i see you
just a few feet away
laughing with her
looking only at her
her eyes capturing
your soul
how i wish i was enough
to be her, to be enough
to hold your attention for
more than a glance
more than a smile
more than a hello
i wish you would look at me
the way you gaze at her
lips when she talks, or remain
breathless
as you cup her jaw
and become entranced
and when the edges of her eyes
crinkle as she smiles
i look on, wishing you could
gaze at me the way
you do her
when she moves
in closer to intertwine
her fingers with yours
i would much rather
pin your wings
to the wall than to let her
have you
i wish you knew i would kiss
away the red and purple
stains she leaves
on your skin
that i would inhale you
like the oxygen that
enters me
my lungs
skin
but alas
we are destined to walk
upon separate paths
yours with her
and mine without you

the nose that sits flat
against her face burns, as
it barricades
against the tears that are
soon to flood and stain
the cheeks, the crevices where her nostrils meshed
with her upper lip. the shattered glass that surrounded her rippled,  
a sea of diamonds.
her hands were pressed in a pool
of their own blood as it seeped
slowly from her cold claws.
the sharp stinging
eventually dulled, but
the scratches embedded in her throat
were still angry and raw, her knuckles
were crusted with the liquid
of dead roses. her gut
was empty, yet still
she retched, but the demons would not
allow her to exorcise them so she stuck
******* down her throat,
as if she could scoop them out.

she felt nothing, she felt
everything,
she felt the ever present emptiness
slowly gnawing
clawing at her insides, whispering the
relief that could come from succumbing
to its comforting abuse
the caress of an icy blade against
the frantic veins on her neck
that raise themselves every time
she breathes
and her chest rises, only to fall
after all she'd fought against,
after all that she fought for
the blurring of her vision was the last
thing she remembered about him
she wanted nothing to do with his seductive charm
but he was already a part of her, she
brought him every where she went
he used to leave handprints in deep purple paint
around her neck
now, he dug his fingers into her
subconscious, leaching,
bleeding her of her potential
she could feel him, and she feared his reappearance daily
she waited for him
to leave a bouquet of dead roses on her doorstep,
to draw the red morning dew from her wine colored lips
to leave a trail of blackened marks on her hips
to tenderly wipe the tears from the eyes that he made swell
she spent more time trying to convince herself she was well
than she spent outside
most days
she lived through a haze,
and when his ways would alter
after he kneeled at the altar,
she would hold on to those brief moments
so when the honeymoon was over,
she could hold up the frozen and broken
memories of him sober

“and he will rule over you.”

I am not ready to release my religion
the consistency of it has grown with me
i am afraid
if i unleash it from my soul
the preached darkness will consume it
i am afraid
that the possibility of its factuality and actuality
will hover in the atmosphere at noon
i am afraid
that by dismissing God too soon
he will dismiss me

Ironically, with my gaining of knowledge,
i have come to begrudge the man in the sky
who has cursed my *** to serve man
to be taken out of man, to exist only within man
he has given a text for those to quote
when arguing the entrapment of women
how am i to recognize the being
when he has ****** me
to be at the elbow of an entire gender
has blamed my kind for the original sin of sins
The Bible has shaped the complications of communities
it has manipulated the societies that barely function
it has forced people to fight for the basic rights all should hold
how am i to forgive such sins committed against my kind?
to accept the influences of a book that is thousands of years old
that still governs my everyday life?

To: Jenny
Subject: Backward ideas

Jenny,
A lady should only speak when spoken to
Do not say
Be quiet!
You can only be graceful, be mellow
Do not tell me
A lady should speak her mind
I know that
A lady should never be aggressive,
You will not tell me
“I want to express control over my own body”
Understand the importance of these words
To Sit still,
To Look pretty
To Talk less
Do not tell me
Women do not need to be put in their place
It was your gender’s fault
That this is the structure of our society
It’s not normal
Accept this,
Dad

you’ve been on my mind recently
i don’t think i love you
perhaps just the idea of loving someone is enough
or more accurately, the idea of someone loving me
i know it was never anything real
when you complimented me
or tried talking to me
but it’s too late now,
i’ve been consumed by my thoughts of you
but i have become obsessed with the idea of you
and it drives me to insanity
yearning to know if “what if” could be definite
and i know it’s so insignificant compared to the vastness of the sky
and the overwhelming stresses of day to day life
but i tell myself you are the most important thing life has to offer

i hate it
i hate that no matter where i am
or what i’m doing
you find a way to seep into the crevices of my brain
and make the contents in my chest quiver
i hate that i feel unwanted because of you
it should not be your decision to make me feel worthy
yet your validation has suddenly become
the purpose of the breaths i take
i want nothing to do with you,
but even saying that, i know it is a deadpan lie
i know you aren’t interested
you’re too good for and to me and my desperate soul
so i will repress this hopeful, naive heart
that believes in the impossible
i know your love isn’t love
i know your kindness isn’t as harmless as it seems
yet i still think about your hands and hair over dinner
and imagine gazing into your eyes when reading any book

love is meant for fools
and i will not be made a fool of
not by a boy with bright red hair
and a bright warm smile
i will not be made a fool of
by a boy who’s love will never manifest deeper than my skin
i had always admired from afar
but it’s time to really distance myself
i need to stop looking for your red head
in the sea of brunettes and blondes
i need to stop myself and my brain
from searching for you
you once were interested in me
and as you break my heart as i once broke yours
the balance of the universe is restored
yet i don’t feel steady
i don’t feel equilibrium

i want the void that consumes me
i want the void to be filled, preferably by you
but it wasn’t meant to be
i wasn’t made for you
you know you’re too good for me
conversations fall flat
being with you would take copious amounts of work
work that won't be put in by either of us
i want the relationship with all the benefits
without the heartache and wet cheeks

i wonder who you love now
i wonder if you still change your interest
like the tides are influenced by the moon every night
i wonder if the one who has gained your interest is gorgeous,
with an extroverted personality
i wonder if they have all the things you wanted me to have
but could never develop
i can’t believe you would make me weak in the knees and in the head
i know you are an unhealthy habit i indulge in,
but buried in my gut,
i whisper prayers to a god i do not believe in
i pray that your soft spoken eyes will fall upon me
and that an electric current will go through your body
i pray you are slowly driven to madness,
the insanity that has enveloped me
i will refuse your actions
because i don’t really love you

i love the idea of someone loving me
i love the power i have over you
i do not love you
i love the attention you provide
i love the thought of getting what i want
feeling your blood drip through my fingers
as i squeeze your heart in my clenched fists
you don’t realize this, but you’re a pawn in my chess game
i am bedridden, sickened because you refuse to participate
but that’s okay
i don’t want or need you as desperately as i once thought
i will let you go, and although i will miss
fantasizing over the idea of you
you will truly be the one who loses in the end,
i have no doubt