my body is
so used to
telling these
lies in hopes
of finding
safety
sooner
than later.
so used
to answering
the unspoken
question.
my legs
shaking,
*******
swelling,
blood,
rushing.
pulse,
throbbing.
my voice is
used to
there never
being the
option of,
“no,
i don’t
want this.”
it is hidden
so deeply
away
that even
when i
am with a
lover, one
who values
my words,
one who
honors my
needs,
i still
can not
find it
inside of
me in time
to stop you.
no,
i do
not want
this.
but this
time
i do
not cry
silenty
in the
darkness
of your
bedroom.
this time
i allow
myself
to become
numb.
nothing
but stale
breath
and dead
nerve
endings.
the space
between my
legs, becoming
incresingly
foreign to
me, becoming
more and more
void of
sensation
more and more
void of
arousal.
vision,
blurring.
pulse,
slowing.
it feels
as though
i have wilted
and withered
away.
i am not
here
anymore.
my mind is
standing barefoot
on the shoreline
of the northern
atlantic ocean.
the tide is
kissing my feet
before scurrying
away, only to
come back and
kiss my feet
again.
i look
for seashells
and colorful
stones.
i don’t need
my voice or
my body, here.
i only need the
sounds of
waves
crashing and
birds calling
to one
another,
all so vividly-
all so
beautifully
and intricately
designed,
all of my own
creation.
tomorrow morning
i will wake up
with wounds in my
chest the size
of my silence,
but for tonight
i am closing
my eyes
to it all.
for tonight,
i am becoming
the sea.