miles away
i’m feeling F a r  A w a y…
i see myself and i just float (t)here
waiting to wake up from this fog

things are hazy
curse that **** juice
what happened exactly?
the words are heavy on my tongue…

can’t get myself to spit them out
can’t get myself to speak the truth
can’t get myself to admit what you did to me

out of character behavior
out of body experience

oh
you don’t remember
oh
i’m sorry i’m holding onto things you forgot all about

i tried to use you as an antidepressant
you just used me
i should have left my feelings for you at the door

i wish i had said no to you
i wish i had been given the choice

i’ve got to let it go (but when? and how?)
if i don’t think about it, it won’t hurt.. right?
gotta focus on someday cuz today hurts a little too much

i wish i could stop thinking about this
i wish i could forget you
i wish you could understand that i don’t hate you
i just wish i’d never met you

i remember confiding in you.
telling you about the men who stole from me,
tore apart my flesh,
took everything i had when i was too young to understand i was losing something,
and i remember your face.
your face was filled with pain as you told me it wasn’t my fault,
that i did nothing wrong and there was nothing more i could’ve done,
you were going to be the good i saw in men.

i remember when i told you about the boys who asked me for pictures.
and all of the lies they told to force me into doing it,
saying they would come to my house and do the things that those men had done,
i was afraid.
but when i told you there was promise and hope in your eyes,
comforting me telling me that once again,
i was not to blame.
you were going to be the good i saw in men.

and then you became worse than the men i had told you about.
each and every one.

you said it you wanted me to become comfortable in my body.
you said that you knew how insecure i was and wanted to make me feel better about myself.
you said i had to because if i could do it for other guys, i owed it to him.
you said you were going to **** yourself if i didn’t.

i loved you,
and i think i always will.
you made me realize that there is no good in men,
and for the two years you forced me into submission,
i will never get the part of myself that you stole back.

Welcome to the club.
The "Should've stayed home" club.
The "I'll never be safe" club.  
The "I tried to say 'no!'" club.
The "He refused to stop" club.
The "I froze and went limp" club.
The "I'll never be the same" club.
The "There's no handbook for being *****" club.
It was not your fault.
Welcome.
You're safe now.
I am so sorry you're here.

New perfume in the air, sweeter than I normally like
the sweetness cannot erase the memory of that night.
Beer music bodies drink music night bodies music drink you
I can’t wear those clothes anymore, not the perfume, not the makeup.
I want to forget it all, the slideshow that starts playing on repeat.
I want to feel something, I feel numb.

I want to cut, rid my skin of your memory and replace it with my own
I want to stop eating, until the starvation clears me out, makes me new
I want to eat everything, so I feel some semblance of full.
I want to do something to forget that time with you.

Eyes follow me in the street, they’re not yours, but my body doesn’t care
heart quickens, breath shakes, I am afraid.
Anger replaces fear, bottled up until I just want to scream
LEAVE ME ALONE
I walk to the school, to the market, and I don’t dress up for you

My homework sits out but I can’t do it today, maybe tomorrow,
I said that yesterday but the numbness won’t go away,
I feel detached, uncaring.
I need to cry, to break things, to heal and yet I’m stuck in this chair,
this one room.
I feel dead inside, remind myself to eat, to drink water, to sleep, to move.
Sweet perfumes lingers in the air, begging me to start over, to forget, to walk away.
But with it on, I still think of you.

a man can be two things for a woman:

the best thing that has ever happened to her


or


the beginning of a new trauma


dear men,

is that what you really want? think again.

The incessant twang of complexity against my ribs
Accompanies the unwanted phantom touch on my hips
But the gentle caress of healing only barely brushes my lips
This is a beginning, but it feels like an ending with no postscripts

The things I used to find comfort in are futile
Against the battering of emptiness against my chest; it's brutal
But physically, I'm intact. Selfishly, I'd feel better if it was gruesome
However, only my mind is in disarray, if I'm being truthful

Do you know what it feels like?
Sometimes it feels dreamlike
More aptly nightmarish, but lifelike
A distant reality, objective, almost businesslike

It feels like a sordid, shameful affair
Although I played no part in the cause of my despair
I am the one who has to deal with it, so I send up a prayer
My soul hopes for speedy repairs

warning: ****** assault, domestic violence

Before:
Daddy yells at momma.
He’s upset that after she made me,
she’s too tired to be with him.

I step into the kitchen
where my pieces of DNA were fighting.
I had just started going to school,
and I was too young to realize:

kids really are helpless
in situations like these.
He shoves momma’s clothes off
so quickly;

I was paralyzed.
I couldn’t move.
I didn’t know
what was going on.

My momma screams in retaliation,
“You *******! She’s right there!”
I’ll never forget the cruel glint in his eyes.
“She won’t remember.”


Then:
As a thirteen-year-old,
I was braced for war.
Momma told me:

“Remember the pain
I went through?
Your father…
Make him pay!”

You’re right,
momma.
I know what you went through.
I’m sorry I am still part of him.

Empty bottles litter the floor
just like the pictures of bodies
in my history textbook.
I stand from amongst them,

glaring at him
as he snores on the couch.
At the time, I didn’t understand why
dad would pass out so quickly sometimes.

Carefully,
I step over the bottles,
making my way over to the sleeping beast.
I’m scared he’ll wake up.

Ah! Just like in my favorite books,
the villain’s neck is wide open!
I reach my hand out,
clutching my pretend dagger—

I **** him!
With elation, I suddenly feel
the curse that tied me to him
leave.

The steady rise and fall of his stomach
brings my spirits back to reality.
Disgust twists across my face,
and I deliver a punch to his beer belly.

He sputters,
standing on his feet in a rage.
“You—
You’ll never understand what I went through!”

My instinct is to run and hide,
but I instead stand proudly,
puffing out my chest.
“I wish you were never my dad!”

I smile to myself,
giddy in hopes that
momma would stop crying
and be proud of me.

He looks hurt by it.
I’m happy!
He never comforted us!
I throw out a few curse words to try to scare him.

That only makes him angry.
“Get over ‘ere,” he says through gritted teeth.
He grabs me by the waist of my pants.
My momma is worth whatever he does to me!

After:
Preparing to graduate from college
with high honors
and a position at my dream job,
I should be happy.

Yet I can't help but realize
it has been a decade since I’ve spoken to my dad.
Mom is with a new man.
He touches me in ways dad never did.

If I was thirteen,
I’d find the ten year anniversary as a reason to celebrate.
“That much closer to removing his curse!”
I would think.

I’m even more disgusted by my mom
spending all of her time with her boyfriend
than I ever did when
dad brought women over.

If the curse is supposed to be disappearing, then
why do I feel just as empty
as I did
before?

You tried to touch me,
and I said no.
You still tried and I pushed you away
asking…. no, telling you to leave me alone.
But still, you grabbed me,
like an object that belonged to you.
And when I still said no,
you acted like that was your cue
to grab me again
and do what you do.
You were my best friend
and now I ******* hate you!
I still blame myself for what you did to me.
How is that fair?
It’s been 4 years and I think about it daily.
While you don’t even care.
You ruined high school for me.
I had to see you every day in band.
But I still blame myself,
for not putting you on the stand.

I won't say "no" twice.

if you didn't listen
the first time,

then I have no reason
to believe that you'll
listen to the second.

and you cannot
complain that you
were not warned
before I scorched
every inch of
your skin.

that one "no"
was your warning.

you won't feel
those warm breaths
you expected to feel
against your neck.

you will feel pain,
because I will
breathe fire.

I will watch
as your life
goes up in flames

and I will smile
the same sadistic smile
that you thought you
would have right now.

the tables have turned.
now, you are the person
coated in fear and gasoline

and I am the person
holding the matches.