in the middle of my silent days you ran interference through thoughts whose only purpose was to run interference through anything good or possibly good that made its way into the rotation of random pain keeping me rooted firmly on the backhand of a smile
snapped in place like the snapping of my bra in the hands of middle school boys that found it awkward to walk when my puberty kick-started theirs
so, 'SNAP' there goes my dignity in that seemingly innocent violation that no one ever calls by name where silence gives them permission to make fun of my already mortifying body changes that took me from innocent and invisible and ****** me into the spotlight so no one would notice the way they were mortified with their own reactions to my puberty
I hid behind oversized sweaters and sarcasm never looked a boy in the eye stopped talking so maybe I could pretend I was invisible and happy or at least not naked beneath these people who stole from me without repercussions...
it lingers...
fast forward through being made painfully aware that a size 10 was massive compared to all my size 5 friends but they were 5'2" not almost 5'8" they still looked like a board not a pinup girl from old-timey calendars but fat is fat wherever it happens to land under thin skin collecting into silent reservoirs of self-loathing ammunition...
it lingers...
fast forward through the first time 'no' held no meaning shocked into silence and tears still whispering... please...don't as words were less weapons and more entrapment where a body betrays in unwanted reactions used as proof against my truth or my perception of truth or...it must be true because if I really didn't want it... but fear and panic can garner the same physical responses as passion and it would be too many years before I knew that...
it lingers...
fast forward to the last time I knew I was beautiful and the only time I ever let a friend convince me that going home with these guys was ok she wanted company and she was my ride she never did get lucky
I... got a cracked sternum where his chin held me down I kept my voice this time but the music was so loud my words remained unheard no still held no meaning my wrist bruised in his hand one hand frantically stretching clothes out of the way while my free hand struggled frantically to keep those same clothes at my waist but... spandex is unkind on so many levels
somewhere in this fight with his knees bruising my calves into position he was thoughtful enough to somehow, someway utilize a ******, whose wrapper never made into the trash I know this as I followed my friend's gaze first to the shiny torn package then twist into what looked like pride and on the way home before the bruises turned purple I told her... and she laughed
it lingers...
she said if that were true and he stopped to put on a ****** why didn't I escape his hold but his grip never changed and when he took those 3 seconds to rip it open with his teeth... I was trying to wriggle free and keep my shorts up and scream over music playing way too loud I couldn't look at her or show her the bruises when they appeared I shouldn't have to prove myself to a friend I lost more than my dignity on my 21st birthday...
it lingers...
But at least I knew I didn't deserve it... that time but if I wasn't pretty or thin or anything remotely attractive maybe it would never happen again but...
fast forward to wisdom earned and extra curves but hating oneself never diminishes without draining that pool of self-loathing
so, fast forward present-day and my mom's voice mocks my dreams she always told me that, when they care, what I look like doesn't matter but...
she never mentioned what would happen if I was the one who didn't care I learned that when I can't see past my incessant imperfections that I'd never believe anyone would notice when I try to drown myself in that pool of past truths that my withdrawal into the abyss of pain could possibly ever matter if it doesn't even matter to me but...
it lingers...
and every time I hide from the world masking my pain with silence stepping out of the way trying not to burden people with my shame and weakness I still cannot fathom if when the people that crawl into my skin ripping my truth into that pool of lies can't be bothered noticing my silence searching for a safe-enough distance then, how could... why would... anyone else
See, I've grown accustomed to not mattering to myself trained into the seeming safety of silence where I grate my self-esteem on the very invisibility I had longed for so many years ago
I care so much but it never makes sense when someone cares enough to notice anything I do, especially when I'm trapped in my own darkness but to bring it to my attention is so rare that I find myself absolutely perplexed
I don't know what it's like to be seen or... I didn't but... you saw me you saw my distance and tried to understand my pain you told me I changed and answered when I asked you to tell me how
I am invisible it's how I cope with heartache and broken trust disappointment and pain unfortunately, it's also how I cope with personal joy and anything that might resemble pride
I feel, but the invisibility... it lingers...
so, today... when in the middle of my silent days or weeks or who knows how long I've been drowning in the abyss in slow motion... today, you ran interference through thoughts whose only purpose was to run interference through anything good or possibly good that made its way into the rotation of random pain keeping me rooted firmly on the backhand of a smile
your honesty, reflecting the truth that I'm likely the only one who actually doesn't notice my own withdrawal into isolation was as surprising as that first snapping of my bra but I found my voice enough to apologize for the shame I didn't earn yet so freely project onto everyone touched by the perception of invisibility in which I hide but you saw me and proved I am not invisible you cared enough to notice and...