the line is blurry, for one day you look at me the next i disappear. You laugh with her, then we shed a tear. you're hot and then cold and i need stability the ability fragility mobility of another person i need a touch a rush a crush i need you, with your boombox standing outside my window i need you to concentrate on me for i am conceited, indeed but i think you love me
What does one do when the lines of the meaning of love are blurred for a girl at the age of fourteen? When a girl is pinned down to a bed even though she said No No No But let it happen because she thought that was how relationships were supposed to be.
Maybe he didn’t listen because I’m wrong This is meant to happen I’m his girlfriend. I should be okay with him groping me. Stop being so uncomfortable. Stop squirming underneath his grasp. Stop trying to pry his fingers off of your breast as he laughs at your struggle. He’s your boyfriend. He loves you. This is okay.
It must be okay Because the pattern continued. It must just be love when your boyfriend tries to touch you in untouched places while you’re trying to sleep At the age of fifteen. I’d never been touched there before I’d never even touched myself there before. And I had never felt any more uncomfortable in my whole life But who was I to say No. It was love, Right?
And it wasn’t assault, right? Surely I- a young, normal girl- didn’t become a victim of ****** assault Right? I didn’t say no. I was too scared to say no. I was too scared that the words No No No Became lost in my mouth And my eyes were stuck shut because they were too scared Too see the kind of love he was giving me.
And I wanted to leave but I couldn’t Because love is supposed to be this way. I never had a physical experience showing otherwise. This must be love The lines are not blurred. This is how it is.
For a moment I thought that maybe I wasn’t wrong. That this repetition of touching That this lack of approval Was wrong. My body is my body I’m not found strung on the shelves of *** shops Or delivered in a package with a bow on top Spread across the table for a man’s full course meal. No. I am a person And just because I have ******* and curves and a vulnerable physique does not mean I am up for grabs--
He told me he loved me But if that was love that was no love of mine And I told him No No No. I exposed him I may have been in tears but I told him I knew everything that he had been doing to me and I called out his love
And he He Did not apologize. He did not explain himself to me. He just told me that It was okay. I was okay.
Because that’s right. I am nothing I am nothing How silly of me to think otherwise How silly of me that I almost forgot that I am nothing more Than an object for you to touch how you please. Who needs sleep When the man can’t wait For you to wake up For consent For you to yell No No No.
I lock myself into a room I fall to the ground I can't breathe I cant see everything is b l u r r y my tears cover my eyes I don't know why but these panic attacks won't stop coming and I don't know why
am I overthinking too much again? has my depression come back? am I all alone again? do I miss him too much?
My eyes are wide shut This silence is deafening I keep on stressing Heart beat hastens Silence so loud Unspoken words Like a hot rod Burns in my chest So much to tell you So little said We're not paid to hurt It hurts to love. But I love you. I literally crave you Just let me save you Let's pace together A path we'll walk I did stalk you In the wake of a shattered moonlight The beams that held dreams are broken because of words left unspoken. These thoughts are just a token of my hurt. My memories are fleeting But one thing will never change I AM JONATHAN Or am I SCARLETT Blurry line between right and wrong Quite a sad song I need an outlet for this pain.
a bewildered face, a blurry cloud in the sky, i’m turning in circles and every second i see something else collapse. like the lungs behind our ribs, we can’t breathe when the air is so thick. our bodies shrinking, lungs suffocating, i don’t think you have room for me,, anymore.
i’m standing in the middle of a museum. which one? not important. i’ve lost vision; everything is blurred and i feel like i’ve just been told i’m legally blind. i can’t decipher what is art and what isn’t. is this chair something i can sit on, or an antique sculpture? are the people walking around me real or some elaborate movie being projected with myself as the only real one there? how can i even be sure that i’m real? of course you are real. i tell myself you would never be considered art.
and then it hits me. her. when i looked at her, it’s like i had 20/20 all over again. she was so clear but somehow remained dream-like in such a natural way. she was more than art. she is more.
god how i’ve felt myself being ripped apart like pages out of a sketchbook everyday since i’ve met her (it’s not your fault; i’m the one who ends up burning them anyways).