My eyelids seem to be the strongest part of me. When the rest of my body falls into the ocean of blankets they float open upon the white water atop the waves of sleep. This is when you come back. In this mattress I am a piece of clay and I can still feel the deep indentations of where your fingers wrapped themselves like Ivy around my hips. Hips, that stuck out like white flags of surrender and fell to the ground in a straight line. I can still hear you. I am a broken record, and your whispers are the only track that plays at this hour. “You are fat” “Look at how flat you are Emma, no boy will ever look at you.” “You are ****.” These are the nights when I can feel the spiderwebs your words wrapped around my ribs and listen to the way my heart beats constricted in its cage, your hand still clenched around it. Can’t you see me bleeding? Safety lies beneath my eyelids but you pull them open I can feel your icy touch behind my eyes as I stare coldly at the ceiling. you demand to be heard. Did you mean to put your words in my pocket when you reached in to steal the sleep that was nestled there like crumpled dollar bills? Do you realize that you stayed with me? Can you take your stolen midnight hours back and place them on your pillowcase? Will your eyelids close? Or can you still hear my cries of protest as your soundtrack plays into the night? I don't understand? Did you think it wouldn't hurt me? Or did you want to live forever,so you put your fingerprints where you knew they wouldn't fade.
This is almost the completed version of a poem I am submitting to a contest. Please please please leave feedback and suggestions. I really want this to go somewhere. I believe it is a message that people need to hear.