You texted me last night.
If you had done that a year or two ago,
My stomach would have been rushing with butterflies,
My heart would have stopped,
I would have lost the ability to speak,
I would have texted back in a heartbeat.
You texted me again last night,
Wondering what I was up to,
Acting as if nothing was wrong,
Acting as if it hasn’t been months since the last time we talked.
You wanted to know what I was up to,
And our conversation flowed like how it did before.
Our words floated out of our mouths like how the rain fell from the sky,
Slowly but sometimes all at once.
You wanted to know what I was up to
And we were fine until you asked me to give myself to you.
I was fine until I figured out that you only wanted me for something physical,
For an easy kiss,
A skin to touch,
A diamond to ****.
I was pure
And you wanted to destroy everything about me,
My sanctuary,
My ******* body,
You wanted to destroy my very being.
I realized then that you were an animal,
A boy,
Not a man,
Who wanted nothing but a **** in the daytime
So you can get off
And I realized then that if I had given it up,
Not only would I have given up my purity,
I would have given myself to you,
Someone so ******* vile and atrocious
And I would never have been the same.
I was the last number in your phonebook,
And you named me the side *****,
The person you would only ever call for easy ***
And for something to taint.
You forgot my name,
Forgot that I have an identity,
You only ever call me when you remember I have a body,
And even then you only use me for **** that only ever benefits you.
I’m ******* sorry you’re such an immature person
And you don’t know how to treat a woman right.
I wonder what your mother thinks of you,
How your sister looks at you,
I want to know if they see you like I do.
I used to hold you up like a trophy,
Held you up to the sky
Because I thought you were better than this,
But now I look at you in disgust
Because you’re a monster.
I don’t know what the **** I saw in you,
You were everything I wanted at the time,
Everything I needed,
But I was only ever the last number in your phonebook.
You treated me as if I was a phone number on a billboard,
Everyone forgets them until it’s needed,
But I’m not your mistress,
Your little harlot,
The person you can go to after you’ve smoked a bowl
And had crack in your system.
Don’t ******* treat me like I’m a door with an Open sign that allows everybody in,
I’m not your *****.
So text me again,
Call me if you have to.
Instead there’s going to be bile up my throat
And my heartbeat will race,
But not because I’m happy,
No, no
It will ******* race because I hate you
And I’m excited because I want to do every cruel thing I can possibly do to you,
But I’m not you,
I won’t ever be the monster that you turned out to be,
I’m just sorry you have to live with yourself.
So text me again when I’m no longer the last person on your phonebook,
But I’m not going to reply again.