The first time it happened,
I locked myself in the bathroom for an hour.
I cried, desperately washing away at the blood that was streaming from
In between my legs.
I cried, desperately trying to put myself back together
With concealer for the bruises
And pantyliners for the blood.

The second time it happened,
I picked roses from the garden
And cried at the altar of Christ.
It was at this time that I knew there must be no god,
As no deity that claims everlasting love
Would allow for the heartache
You put me through.

I didn’t understand what had happened to me.
I didn’t know what my body was responding to.
I couldn't apprehend why I was leaving scars on my skin
And changing every aspect of my appearance to
Make my body my own.
I didn’t understand how you could do this to me,
To someone who did everything to protect you.

I still do not understand.