Feb 2019
She says she loves him
Down to the bone in which she’ll begin to carve into
If she is like me
The bone that he grips tightly,
Making patterns of her skin
Whether spirals or mandalas
He touches her like she is weakened porcelain
A plastic doll that is only good for his use
And she lets him
She says she loves him
Because she wants so badly for him to be herself
And I won’t tell her she reminds me of 13 year old me
Who wanted so badly to feel like she deserved to breathe
Stripped confidence levels as low as the concrete
That younger me scraped her knees on
Never knowing that one day she would be the ground
And the thing that keeps cutting her now is me
He sleeps in her room at night
Then he leaves and forgets her and she pretends she does, too
She forgets herself
And I won’t tell her she reminds me of 15 year old me
Who snuck into his jeep,
Followed roads to his home
Then snuck into his bedroom
Then his basement when his mom came home
The way he treats her is the dirtiness I’d carry
The way he leaves her is the sound of the TV
That kept playing while I entertained him and he wouldn’t even watch me
The way this is normal for her
So she doesn’t fight
And I won’t tell her she reminds me of 16 year old me
Who made her body a home for anybody but the people who lived there
The way he uses her is how unnatural it felt
How it feels that he is the last one I remember
That he is the last one I touched in a November
The way he makes her think it is her who decides whether
They rest with eyes open together or not
The way he makes her believe it is her fault
It is her fault
And it is my fault
And it is our faults
That keep us nailed to crucifixes made of not wood
But pain and insecurity
Of being a woman loved solely for what makes us women
But if we were men, we’d be lonely
If we were men, we’d be nobodies
No bodies seem like they carry enough blood and warmth except his
And I won’t tell her she reminds me of 17 year old me
Who would rather change for him than let him accept me for me
Who let him tell me what I should do with my body
The way he calls her back in on some nights like a dog
Is the guilt I felt when I couldn’t please him
The way she is his one night stand, for more than one night
And never a friend
Is the deadness that sprung like tree roots when I found he’d been with her
That he’d be with her, from now on
She is lost in the way he has lost love for her
And I won’t tell her she reminds me of 18 year old me
Who let cages hold me instead of his palms and his cheek
His face and his hair that feels so feathery
That feels like what it should be
The way he makes her question herself is the times over and over again I refused
The spirals on her skin are the circles I have been running in
The way he traces them with his fingers to make her think she could get him to want her is how I became lost
Chasing him then chasing me then chasing something I couldn’t see
Chasing nothing
Chasing something I couldn’t be
And should never have been, a one night stand for more than one night
And never a friend
This is normal for me
The basement and the bedroom and November is where and when I breathe
Where I see myself falling in deep, maybe
Because he doesn’t deserve a mind this ugly
She says she loves him and it’s scary
Because I said I loved him
And I said I loved him
And I said I loved him
And I said I loved him
And I know she doesn’t mean it
And I know she thinks she means it
And I won’t tell her the way she doesn’t know her worth reminds me of me
I say I love him
The circles I’ve drawn are the reason I keep finding myself in the same position
The same spaces I keep walking in, getting deeper and deeper
Like the spirals on her skin
Yes, there are patterns to my pain
Periods webbed together like mandalas
That have all kept me caught
This is normal for me
And I say I love him
But I don’t want to catch him
And I feel sorry for her—
I’m sorry.
Down to the bone in which she’ll begin to carve into
If she is like me
The bone that he grips tightly,
Making patterns of her skin
Whether spirals or mandalas
He touches her like she is weakened porcelain
A plastic doll that is only good for his use
And she lets him
She says she loves him
Because she wants so badly for him to be herself
And I won’t tell her she reminds me of 13 year old me
Who wanted so badly to feel like she deserved to breathe
Stripped confidence levels as low as the concrete
That younger me scraped her knees on
Never knowing that one day she would be the ground
And the thing that keeps cutting her now is me
He sleeps in her room at night
Then he leaves and forgets her and she pretends she does, too
She forgets herself
And I won’t tell her she reminds me of 15 year old me
Who snuck into his jeep,
Followed roads to his home
Then snuck into his bedroom
Then his basement when his mom came home
The way he treats her is the dirtiness I’d carry
The way he leaves her is the sound of the TV
That kept playing while I entertained him and he wouldn’t even watch me
The way this is normal for her
So she doesn’t fight
And I won’t tell her she reminds me of 16 year old me
Who made her body a home for anybody but the people who lived there
The way he uses her is how unnatural it felt
How it feels that he is the last one I remember
That he is the last one I touched in a November
The way he makes her think it is her who decides whether
They rest with eyes open together or not
The way he makes her believe it is her fault
It is her fault
And it is my fault
And it is our faults
That keep us nailed to crucifixes made of not wood
But pain and insecurity
Of being a woman loved solely for what makes us women
But if we were men, we’d be lonely
If we were men, we’d be nobodies
No bodies seem like they carry enough blood and warmth except his
And I won’t tell her she reminds me of 17 year old me
Who would rather change for him than let him accept me for me
Who let him tell me what I should do with my body
The way he calls her back in on some nights like a dog
Is the guilt I felt when I couldn’t please him
The way she is his one night stand, for more than one night
And never a friend
Is the deadness that sprung like tree roots when I found he’d been with her
That he’d be with her, from now on
She is lost in the way he has lost love for her
And I won’t tell her she reminds me of 18 year old me
Who let cages hold me instead of his palms and his cheek
His face and his hair that feels so feathery
That feels like what it should be
The way he makes her question herself is the times over and over again I refused
The spirals on her skin are the circles I have been running in
The way he traces them with his fingers to make her think she could get him to want her is how I became lost
Chasing him then chasing me then chasing something I couldn’t see
Chasing nothing
Chasing something I couldn’t be
And should never have been, a one night stand for more than one night
And never a friend
This is normal for me
The basement and the bedroom and November is where and when I breathe
Where I see myself falling in deep, maybe
Because he doesn’t deserve a mind this ugly
She says she loves him and it’s scary
Because I said I loved him
And I said I loved him
And I said I loved him
And I said I loved him
And I know she doesn’t mean it
And I know she thinks she means it
And I won’t tell her the way she doesn’t know her worth reminds me of me
I say I love him
The circles I’ve drawn are the reason I keep finding myself in the same position
The same spaces I keep walking in, getting deeper and deeper
Like the spirals on her skin
Yes, there are patterns to my pain
Periods webbed together like mandalas
That have all kept me caught
This is normal for me
And I say I love him
But I don’t want to catch him
And I feel sorry for her—
I’m sorry.
