i hate when you say things that sound like me in another language
things i know i've said in another lifetime
maybe even this lifetime
maybe i've said them to you

i hate it because i have already fought myself
a million times
i always lose

i hate it because i know how weak i am
and i know how much it hurts to be me
i hate to see you mirroring me
walking in my shoes


on my drive home from work today
i started crying
thinking about how a week ago i had a plan
i told you about it
kinda
i said it like it was a joke
but i had a plan
to dive off the cliff by my old house
the one where my brothers grew up
its about a 200 foot drop from that cliff to the water
i did the research
that’s far enough to do it
you were the only reason i didn’t

this might be a stupid comparison but
when i watched a star is born last year
i hated bradley cooper for what he did
for leaving and hurting his loved ones
when he had such a beautiful love and a beautiful future
he had come so far
and he let it all go
why?

last week, if i hadn’t thought so hard before starting my car
i could’ve done the same

tonight i am *****
i am stained by unwanted hands
i want to lay in the bathtub and let the water soak it all off
to scrub at my skin until it is gone
to let a new, clean layer take its place
every voice is his voice
weathered by the years, who knows what it sounds like
when i close my eyes, every touch is his touch
i shiver beneath it
i am afraid of softness
of beautiful brown eyes
of shy smiles and ‘im sorrys’ and whispers of ****** hair
i am just plain ashamed
tonight i am wearing a shirt to bed
and pants
and socks that go all the way up my legs
tonight i am sleeping faced away from my mirror
surrounded by empty ice cream bowls
hurting
just like the good old days.

the night in november
when he took me from me
i always remember it
all the other times bob up and down
in the sea that is my mind
but that day is steady
it is always there
the red
it is burnt into the backs of my eyes
the red of my shirt
the red of the chair he ****** me over
the red of my blood, persistent
the sting was red
the sky was red
that day has gained power with time
after it happened i just showered and went to sleep
numb
but since
it has become as sure a presence as the sun in the sky
no one can touch me
no one can look at me
if i never let anyone close,
no one can take me from me again

i wish i could hold the things that hurt you in my hands
so i could crush them like dry leaves
they would crumble to dust between my fingers
and i would blow them away in one breath
off to somewhere they can’t reach you

i am eighteen years old
i am overgrown grass and wildflowers
the smell of dust, and crumbs on the couch
i am too slow and too fast at once
some people can’t keep up
some people don’t have the patience to wait
the girl i love is the smell of new shoes
she has pretty blue eyes and a pristine little smile
i love the way her hands feel
my best friend is the world after rain
they are everything i wish i was
and everything i’m glad i am not
at once

i am not the daughter my father wanted.
i am too apologetic and too aloof.
i am not the daughter my mother wanted.
i am too damaged. i think i always will be.
i am not the granddaughter my grandmother wanted.
i am not girl enough. not even close.
my legs are too hairy and i don’t like boys enough and i’m too blunt.
i am not the best friend my best friend wanted.
i am too self centered and full of excuses and just too much.
i am not ever enough for anyone.
i will never be the person my loved ones want me to be.
i don’t even know who i want to be.
just when i thought i had become a person i could be proud of
i look around at all the people i’ve majorly disappointed,
and i realize that i can’t win.

no more speaking
i know you love to drown me in your words
but hush
breathe me in
let the silence fill the room like oxygen
embrace the nothing
let my lips tell silent stories
hold still and you may understand

when you touch me i am pink lemonade in the fall
your fingers whisper promises on my skin
i believe each one

you are the rumble of thunder
danger and pain and power and thrill
yet strangely comforting
you make my insides feel happy and cozy
but full of adrenaline
a perfect mixture of feelings I never knew I needed
you are the opposite of love
you are cold and bitter like stormy winds
but inside you make me feel something that resembles love
and that feeling strikes me with electric fear
as hard as I try, I cannot get rid of it
so I will embrace it
I will lay in the grass with my arms above my head
my shirt unbuttoned halfway so the rain can kiss my skin
and the lightning can dance closer and closer
I know the pain it will bring me
but I don’t care
I am going to enjoy this life while I have it

my heart is too full and too empty all at once
I have too much love to give and not enough space to receive
I worry too much
my head is always spinning
always plucking the petals off of flowers
they love me, they love me not…
and yet
I continue to fall in love
constantly
even after having my heart broken
over
and over
and over
until I no longer remember what it feels like to be loved
only to give love away until I am an empty balloon
lying helpless on the ground
alone

I cannot tear my eyes away from the sky
they are bound together with needle and thread
although I do not mind

I will never grow tired of her amber glow in the mornings
her cerulean hue mid afternoon
and her cotton candy pinks and purples in the evenings
but my favorite has always been the night sky

I am in love with the milky white face of the moon
and the glittery speckles of stars
creating swirls of silver and white
on a canvas of black

I often venture outside late at night
just to see her
she is the Juliet to my Romeo
a beautiful masterpiece I have always loved
but am unable to touch

triggered
you laugh as you say the word. this is all a joke to you
of course, there’s no harm to your fun
triggers are just excuses
of course

triggered
my trauma has become a prison
I cannot walk down the street without remembering
the things he did
my hands are always shaking
my eyes are always watering

triggered
you tell me to pull myself together
it was just a joke, no big deal
but believe me, I’m trying
I have been trying for years
holding yourself together is not nearly as easy as it sounds

triggered
my skin is quicksand
the more I struggle, the tighter it becomes
it is crawling with spiders and cockroaches
I am overflowing
my body is too small to hold so much worry

triggered
I do not need your approval to know that my panic is real
but
if you tell me I do not belong in your universe
with all the people who can laugh and play and trust each other
with the people who hear the word *triggered and laugh
chances are, I will believe you

my dear
you are not a girl
you are the constellation Andromeda
chained
you think you are alone
but believe me, my dear
you are surrounded by admirers on all sides
I am one
but I am so far
I can only admire you from grassy hills
in the middle of nowhere
where the city lights will not drown you out
but when I do
you are so lovely, my dear
the long drive
to see you
will always be worth it
you are truly breathtaking

the memory is foggy, but it’s there
I used to think I had dreamt it;
his hands on my shaking body, his breath that smelled of alcohol
the images were so distant that they almost felt unreal

my therapist used to ask me if I was sure it really happened
and to be fair, I wasn’t
but why would a ten year old imagine something so twisted?
and why would the thought of my own dreams make my stomach sick?

I spent years wondering what really happened
and I finally know it was real
because whenever I replay the events I remember
I am back
I can feel the cold air on my skin and the tenseness in my muscles
his voice telling me to come closer
his hands on my shaking body, his breath that smells of alcohol
my dreams have never made me feel this way

I know a girl with eyes like oceans,
encircled by eyelashes like butterfly wings.
her hair is straight and thin and the color of sugar cookies.
she has the face of the moon.
when she speaks, her eyes widen and her voice shakes.
she makes my head spin.
but she doesn’t love me.

I know a girl with hair that is never one color.
it is short and frizzy but beautiful nonetheless.
her eyes are big and round,
and brown like coffee with too much milk.
she is ripped jeans and black shirts and drum sets.
her heart is rough but her hands are soft and small.
she makes my heart ache.
but she doesn’t love me.

I know a girl with skin like peaches in the summer,
and cream in the winter.
her hair is long and brown like chocolate.
she has a smile like the sun,
and a heart like the fire on its surface.
her eyes are rainy days,
but her lips are summer sunsets.
she makes my hands shake.
she tells me she loves me,
but I’m not sure if I believe her.

I have so much love in my heart.
all I need is someone to give it to.
but she doesn’t love me.

I am fifteen years old
he’s been touching me like this for years
but I’m beginning to doubt I’ll ever be used to it
every time the door opens, my room starts to spin like a carousel
the possibility of his hands on my waist
again
will always make my stomach sick
he went from a brother to a predator so slowly
that I almost didn’t notice
instead, I noticed my own deterioration
I blamed myself
he’ll never know that he ruined me

I am twelve years old
a boy sitting across from me on my school bus
with hair the color of the sun
decides to move next to me
he presses his sweaty body against mine
my face is against the window
I can’t breathe
his lips move to my ear
his breath surrounds me and suffocates me
it smells like death and fear
I would cringe away
but I have nowhere to go

I am ten years old
despite the warmth of my parents’ room, I am shivering like crazy
he pulls me under his warm comforter
but I am far from comfort
his breath smells of alcohol as he whispers “don’t worry”
“I’m not going to touch you”
yet my heart has not slowed
and my shivering has not stopped
his lips press to mine and they taste like poison
his hands move my own across his large body
my head is spinning
I need to get out of here

I am eight years old
we are watching tv on the couch together
all my other brothers have gone to bed
but we were always the night owls of the family
his hands snake up my legs
they burn like flames
I push them away
as he tries to push them under my shorts
but he never gives up
no matter how many times I tell him no
even after years
of pushing him away

I am five years old
the boy who lives next door wants to play
together
we go into the bushes behind his house
my heart races with excitement
but
when he asks me to show him what’s under my skirt
it drops with fear
I want to cry
he tells me that if I say no he’ll send me home
we will never play together again
I run home in tears

I am two years old
as my mother is treating my diaper rash
she tells me to never let anyone else
see what’s under my nightgown
I am confused
I could never see how that could become an issue
or a challenge
little did I know that
by being a girl
I had been set up for a lifetime of danger

I am from strawberry stems and full dinner plates
mother’s starting to get suspicious
if I can’t finish my dinner
how do I have so much room for apples
and bananas
and mango?

I am from whispered I love yous
the kind that sound like sunsets
that feel like sunshine on cold skin

I am from a world of imaginary paintbrushes
flowers,
grasses,
and the tails of kittens

I am from fairytales
some passed on through generations
some out of books
some that came from my own little mind

I am from olives and pocket bread
food that is more than food
that tastes like family and history and memories
most of all, it tastes like love

I am from soft, smooth voices
always speaking
humming
singing
silence was once my greatest fear

I am from love
so much love it stretched my heart out
enough to make my chest ache
so when did it leave?
where did it go?

Aphrodite, goddess of love
twist your branches of willow around me
gust your warm winds against my numb skin
cover my tongue in the taste of strawberries and chocolate.

I want to sing the sound of you
I want to know the feeling of your lips on mine
I want to be loved.

I am all too familiar with unreciprocated love
it tastes bitter, like black coffee and raw sage
I long for a sweeter taste
I long for someone to numb the sting.

so come to me, my dear
there is no need to be afraid
I will make you a cup of galaxies
it will taste like hot chocolate with extra milk
together
we will connect the constellations at the bottom of your cup.