I wonder when it was that we really met
was it when he first lied to me
or the time I tried to jump out the two story window at 5 years old

was it when I first felt the bugs crawl beneath my skin as you touched me
no longer sparks flying but an electrocution without the quick death

perhaps when my dad spat that he was ashamed of me
and my mum said he wanted me out of his sight
off of his site
“get off of those sites”

when I locked myself in the shed at 6
I screamed and cried
not wolf, but Rapunzel
climb up my hair, rip it out of my head and

now it is 12 years later and I don’t cry to be let out
I cry to be let gogh
and drink paint and drink paint andrink p ain’t
it silly?

if only you were looked after