you took the finger you accuse with
you took it and accused my insides of the most punishable sin
adultery
because baby, i want you. i want you.
and while this took place, i left my body
and moved into my shadow filled ***
and grasped your neck
and threw my head back
because i am loud
and i am not controlled
like a broken electrical line
snapping and shooting at the ground in a mass of sparks
like the fourth of july in shorts that daddy would not be too proud of
and scabs on your thighs from that mysterious boy who lives down the street.
secret, secret. mom i'm a *******.
mom i like it when he hurts me.
mom he pulls my hair and bites my chest and i tnrill.
it isn't the same when i bite myself
because lord knows that's because i want to feel close to death
and maybe because he does throw
and kick and cut
when he loses it all
maybe i will come close to death.
maybe he'll just tilt that steering wheel
scream at me for everything i can't do
and then i'll be gone.
and you won't have a ******* for a daughter any longer;
what a heavy burden to carry.