where did my pride go?
Is it lost in that space
Between **** and pure?
Or did I leave it with
The only boy I loved?
I think it’s beneath
Where I would kneel
On the concrete so
That he could feel
In control of something.

Maybe I left it in
The crack between
Some stranger's bed
And the wall beside us.
Were his parents
On the other side of
The wall completely
Unaware of us?

It might be in the
Bag with a purple dress
I bought just for him and
Will never wear again,
A dress I hated and
A night I hated
even more
But it was for him.

No, I left it on the nightstand
Of a boy who never
Treated me like a human
But still I gave him second,
Third, twentieth chances
Because he “loved me”
And I was a weak little
Girl scared and
Confused as to how
You count love in bruises.


Still it might be
Between the seats of
A faded couch in
My aunt's basement
Surrounded by my blood
And her fiance's
Lust for his teen years
To be revived in a girl
Just turned fourteen,
Only two years older
Than his own daughter.


I’m not sure where
I left it, but
I won’t find it again now.