I feel like I'm boring you with my stories.
I feel like I'm boring you with my attempts at making you laugh.
I feel like I'm boring you with what's going on inside my mind.
Instead...
You want to know my bra size.
You want to know my favorite ****** position.
You want to know how far I'd let you go.

And I tell you. I tell you everything.

It's funny how obvious your intentions are, yet, I still have this slither of hope that you will realize my brain is more interesting than my ******.

But, until then, the color of my underwear is black with polka dots.
What about yours?

I guess it's over.
Water has spilled all over our ink
and now our words are blurry.
Unreadable.
Unfixable.

But what do you care?
You were the one who tipped
the glass over.

I could feel the blood running down my arms.
My legs.
My chest.
My back.

These old wounds were starting to bleed again.
-----
And it was when I thought of you.

You're a shovel.
Digging a deep hole in my chest.

I can feel my every breath
whirling around with no way out.

Make it stop.

I found darkness in you.
The familiarity of abandonment
Of pain.
I clung to it.
I clung to you as if you had all my answers
As if you could clinch my thirst of attention
Lack there of, rather

It was toxic
It would **** me
But I wanted more


You remind me of my father

Sometimes, I wish it were boy.
   A boy who kissed me for the first time.
   A boy who saw me naked for the first time.
   A boy who touched my body for the first time.

Instead, it was a girl.
   She would make me take my night gown off when we would sleep in the same bed.
    She would kiss me and touch me when I had no way of understanding what it meant or why it was happening.

But I let her.
  
See, in my mind, I was finally getting the attention I was lacking from everyone else.
I  finally felt loved.
But she manipulated my innocence by making me think this was all normal.

When it wasn't.

I didn't realize this for 3 years.
3 years of confusion.
3 years of shame.
3 years of abuse.
At least it stopped.

It took another 8 years for me to actually tell someone.
I remember there were very few words exchanged.
No tears.
No hugs.
Unbearable silence.

I remember spending that night crying into my pillow
wondering why nobody cared.
Would they have reacted differently
if it were a boy who had done this to me?

A boy who stole my ability to trust anyone.
A boy who made me afraid to sleep in my own bed.
A boy who stole my ability to think of my own body as a temple.
A boy who took advantage of my desire to be loved
   and then made me feel unlovable.

But it wasn't a boy.
                 **It was a girl.

I bet you like the shape of my lips.
---I bet you want to taste them.
I bet you like the freckels that trail down my chest.
---I bet you want to connect them with your tounge.
I bet you like the way my hair falls to the middle of my back.
---I bet you want to trial your fingertips through it.

I bet you would never do those things.
I bet you are afraid of what might happen.

I bet I am more afraid of what might happen.
I bet I would hide my body from you.
I bet I would run.

I bet you wouldnt chase after me.

I'm tired of forcing you out of my every thought.
Convincing myself I don't want you isn't working and I'm sure it hasn't worked for anyone.
You can't just flip a switch and forget about someone.
What if this person was exciting?
Made you feel desired?
Made you want to get up in the morning?
Why would you want to give that up?
--
The truth is, the possibility of us is all that it's ever going to be.
A possibility
A what if.
A maybe.

And even though it hurts, I don't want to fight my thoughts anymore.
I'll think of you until I'm ready to let the idea of you go.
That's all you are anyway.
A stupid idea.

When the time comes
I want the lights on.

When the time comes
I want you to look at me.
To see me.

When the time comes
I don't want to cover my curves.
I want you to touch them.

When the time comes
I want the lights on.

When you feel your throat start to burn
     with something you want to say
Coat those words with gasoline
    and start a fire

Don't let them turn into ashes.

You've put me in your doll house.
Plastic furniture
cardboard walls
Surround me. Smother me.

There are other dolls here, too.
waiting.
like me.
To be picked.

I see your hand come towards me
Finally. You pick me.

Your rough fingers curl around my waist
lifting me to what seems like an endless sky

My hair bouncing in the wind
my eyes looking at you
always looking at you.

We do what we always do.
Sit out by the water
you making jokes, me singing songs.
You caress my cheek
You kiss me.

You never kiss me..
Maybe this means something.
Maybe I wont have to go back

I see him stand
oh no
he folds up the blanket we've been laying on
please don't make me go back
I feel his rough fingers curl around my waist
let me stay

I couldn't look at him
the whole way back.
What did I do?
Was I a bad kisser?
Did he regret picking me this time?

He places me back into the doll house.
I look into his eyes, pleading, begging
for him to give me answers.

Instead
He curls his rough fingers around the waist
of the doll next to me.
Lifts her up, and kisses her cheek.

He's never done that with me.

I watch as they both disappear into the distance.

Every time I see him leave with a different doll,
I can feel my skin harden
my skin becoming shinier

He's transforming me into something I'm not
Plastic.

Maybe thats what he wants. Plastic dolls.
Dolls waiting for his attention.
Dolls at his disposal.

I don't want that.
I want to be free.

But, I want him to love me.

All I can do now, is wait.
Wait for him to pick me again.
To play with me again.

Fantasy:
Swollen lips.
Bruises on my hips.
Goosebumps through your fingertips.

Reality:**
Swollen heart.
Bruises from my thoughts.
Hating how you tear me apart.

You took away all the tools
to allow me to fix us

I'm sitting here with my hands tied behind my back
waiting for you to release them
So I can reach you.
So I can hold you.

So I can tell you how sorry I am.

Please release me.

You laced me with your touch.
It lingers in my goosebumps
just waiting for the excuse to rise again
to see you rise
--

thats when I feel the most wanted

My heart was ripped
out of my chest
Bleeding at your feet.

and you stepped on it when you walked away from me.
out of my life.

my blood and guts stamped on the bottom of your shoe.
a stain you may never notice.

I am now a foot print.
left for someone to follow
and finally take the place where I once was.

Blow off the lingering dust
watch those particles dance in the air
sunlight hitting them
creating tiny stars
Stars you haven't seen in awhile.

a tiny sky
of hope
of new beginnings
a reminder of what you once had
and have decided to try again.

Blow the dust off your vintage heart
and begin again.

....
Every time I think of you.
Every time I hear your name.
I'm trying to swallow the feelings
still lingering on the lining of my throat
wanting to yell out "Come back, I need you."

Even though you hurt me.
Hurt me more than I was prepared for,
My skin still stings for your touch.
My lips still ache for yours.
My whole being still revolves around you
and what you think of me.
If you even think of me at all.

My thoart is dry enough to start a fire,
a fire you have made impossible to burn out.

I let them tear at my insides
Rip me open and take what they want
I’m lying helpless. Spread open. Exposed.
I wouldn’t dare look them in the eye.
One by one I feel their weight lift off me
as they get their fill and move on.
I’m left alone.
I wipe their saliva off my ribcage and hug my insides together.
I start to feel my heart beating again.
I can feel it echo throughout
my hollowed chest
I lift myself up and start to walk.
I can see more scavengers in the distance
I close my eyes, wincing from the pain.  
And continue to walk toward them.

When he first touched me,
I thought I would unfold
Go weak. Tremble.
But instead, I didn't feel anything.
He put his mouth on my skin and I felt numb.
Distant. Distracted.
I tried to close my eyes and center myself
but I kept waiting for it to be over.

My first intimate moment and my body
turned to stone.

~~

You ruined me.
You ruined my ability to enjoy intimacy.
Maybe even love.

I have been waiting my whole life for a moment like this
but you forced me to recoil into my natural coping mechanism of shutting down
Pushing away

But this moment was right.
I wanted him to kiss me.
I wanted him to touch me
but you turned me against him.

You made me think I didn't want him
I didn't deserve him
That his touch was tainted
When it was perfectly fine.

To the ones who touched me before,
you touch me through hands that I know
Hands that I trust
Hands I could love

My body can't shake your touch from it's memory.
Your finger tips forever scar my goosebumps.

But I wont stop searching for peace.
Peace for my body
For my soul.

Peace despite of the ones who have touched me before.

I feel hollowed out, gutted.
I can hear my heartbeat echo throughout my chest,
making it the only way I know I am still alive.

and that something is still alive in me.

The trees moving in the wind.
The leaves falling from the moving branches

Its beautiful.

What about when the leaves hit the ground?
They are stepped on
Rained on.
Probably ****** on.

So, that kind of *****.

I lost you.
The moment I finally realized I wanted you.

And now I'm stuck with a hole in my gut that bleeds every time I see you with her.

Wishing it were me.
Wishing it were me.

It was meaningless.
I mean, I'd like to think it was
You only wanted her touch for the night.
You only wanted her lips for the night.
It was meaningless.

It should of been my touch.
It should of been my lips.

It might of been a meaningless encounter
But I feel robbed.
It should of been me.
It should of been me.

If I flip a coin and it lands on tails,
I'll tell you why I did it.

tails, I'll tell you why I felt like I wasn't enough anymore.
tails, I'll tell you how afraid I was of being erased
tails, I'll tell you how much I wanted it to be you

and if it were to land on heads,
I'd stay silent