We don’t touch that often now.
  
I always plan to leave my clothes on but you soon lose interest in the lines of my face;
my eyes; my palms.  
I want to write you a novel on the sound of your laughter.
The touch of your breath against my neck when you are sleeping and I try to ****** the night into staying-
tomorrow we become silent and sinister again.

I am sorry because I make myself ashamed when I should be causing a scene.

I am worse for those hours spent silent in your sheets the way the night is worse for the moon; it’s so much clearer now.
I am worse for the scars on my hands.

I am worse, I am worse.

I am worse.

I like to imagine I am a strong woman, most days.
That my nieces will look up to me, some day.

But I still look in the mirror and see you kissing those blond girls.
I touch my skin and feel scars.

I find myself whispering the same lies you used to tell me
into my own ears.
“You wouldn’t last a day without me.  No one else will ever want you.”

On those days, I run until my feet bleed.



On those days, I forget I am a scientist, a teacher;
In love.

I think about your hands.
I remember when I was not brave enough to utter just one single word that could have saved me.


I like to imagine I am a strong woman,
but I watch these girls hold their heads high when they walk
and
I am always counting the steps as they
take me further away from you.

I watched you cut me open.
The anesthetic was local
And I have seen my own bones broken
But never with such precision and ease

You stitched this up but it still bleeds.
We choked
and choked
but still
this breathes.

And I wanted to tell you how listening to The Cure
could heal your soul on the worst days.

Instead we just joked about taking our clothes off.

If I have learned anything these past 12 years, it's to trust
I am not the only girl
worrying that I am doing all these things we tell ourselves we won't do
just because we're asked to.
Just to feel wanted and beautiful.

As a scientist, I explain to myself that only 3-5% of mammals are truly monogamous,
as I woman I justify that society made me crave the attention;
made me need *** to feel.
As the owner of a small heart I struggle to make room and find it is not room I was lacking.
Just
Compassion.

But it's Friday, I'm in Love.

I turn 26 tomorrow.

For the first time in 12 years, I will not expect a call.

To put it frankly, the barbed wire fences you put up around my heart so long ago
Have let no one in and no one out.

I would **** to hear your voice again.

I break and remain.

Drunk kisses don’t count here
Not even with me not even
when it’s the first drink.

And you said
“boys don’t want smart girls,
boys don’t fall in love with Tomboys.”

So I gave up my dreams I
Gave up hockey I
Started wearing makeup.
I began saying stupid, shallow things.

On my unhappiest days I still want to blame you.
when I can’t speak without doubting myself or
changing the infliction of my voice so I sound
like I am begging.

I remember being brave at 16.

Until you told me,
“boys don’t want girls who never listen
boys don’t like girls who can stand on their own feet.
Just sit quietly and I will
Break you piece by
Tiny piece I will
Make you hate me.
I will make you hate me but you will
Never have the strength to leave.”

1.
You would find me tying knots in my hair.
and the bile would rise in my throat as
my hands shook.
I lost my voice in the heat of all the voices
It shimmered on the sidewalk I

I do not often say the right thing
When I am speaking I
Don’t laugh easy.


2.
When I watch you leave
I am reminded of how we used to fold starburst wrappers
Into chains and string them across the ceiling of my room.
We would be sugar-sick for days.


3.
I would rather fly than drive.
I turn back too often to be trusted at the wheel.

I am known to dig my nails into my own skin.
I never realize until you lace your fingers in mine and we both,
Red-handed,
Are caught in an apology.


4.
You have such a lovely face still.
Do you think of us, here?

I catch myself blaming you for the things I cannot change in myself,
As if you stole something from me.

But I was the one who stayed when I knew I had to leave.
I am the one who keeps quiet when
I should be screaming.


5.
I wonder if I don’t miss the tragedy of it all, somedays.


6.
You would find me sitting on picnic tables
Drawing hearts on my knobby knees.

I would sometimes whisper.
You did not hear me.