I had a dream about
my father
At least I think it
was him
I was talking into
a dark room
Could see the red tip
glow of his cigarette
Smell beer and fresh dirt
Consumed by a mix of
emotions
I couldn’t form any
words beyond
“What are you doing here”
Long, frustrating silence
like most of our
relationship
And when I neared giving
up and turning away
He whispered
“Don’t give up like I did
You fight the ******* darkness”
I jolted awake with
the bang from his
gun
Tears streaming from
my eyes
My most meaningful
conversation with my
father
was a dream

I’m not everyone’s
cup of tea
My special blend of
crazy a bit too
bitter to the tongue
for some
But if you can
get beyond
the dark thoughts
and
scarred parts
I could be the
sweetest thing
you
ever tasted

the mouth is set and
                                       the brain retreats inside with
                                                                ­                          no where left to go

He sat silently
across the room
and read my body
like his favorite
book
My curves the
chapters he’s
memorized
and licked his
lips because he
knew just how tasty
the end would
be.

To the man at the store
waiting in line
behind me
buying the cheap
beer and frozen pizza
The one who
pointed out the
scar of
the lowest point
in my life
I’m not sure if you
were trying to shame
me
Or if in your ignorance
you just blurted out
your opinion
without any real thought
“God doesn’t like suicide”
I really did try to smile
and walk away
because I’m not that
person
I’m not someone who
lashes out
I’m not someone who lets
words shoot forth
without thinking them
through
I don’t have shame
for this scar
It’s a reminder of
the depths of darkness
I’ve survived
And I should’ve been content
with myself for
my strength
Shouldn’t have responded to your
statement
But your smug smile
and satisfactory stance
rubbed me just
the wrong way
on just the wrong day
And the words flew off
my tongue before I
could bite them back
“Is that so? How does God feel
about back woods ignorant
*** holes with poor eating
habits and bad taste in beer?”

I've never put much faith in
people
Even the most important in
my life letting me down
Abandoning and abusing
Casting aside and
scarring
Unloved and forgotten

In those times of
inconsistency
I clung with innocent love
to the constants

The sun, the moon, and the stars

I’m done with head down and closed lips
Just making it through one more day
Done with thinking my scars are ugly
and therefore making me unlovable
I’m going to wear them proudly
with head held high
Telling my story to any who cares to listen
Because these scars are an armor
forged in battles I have won
They prove that time and time again
I am stronger than anything that has
tried to destroy me