believe that my kindness makes me
anything but insurmountable.
I did not unzip my chest to every kind of hurt,
and stagger back, wounded and alive,
just to hear you call me weak for trying.
I opened my door to Heartache—
I gave her the fucking key.
My softness for wayward strangers
has made me nothing less
than a halfway house for aching soles.
So when you open your mouth
and call me ‘baby’
understand that I am not your next victim
in a laundry list of broken girls.
You think I don’t know you? People like you?
People with mouths for hands.
I’ve got skin like topsoil
and your teeth could never take root.
So when you go looking to make a plaything
of a sunburst,
you better look for someone with less fire
Because softness or no,
I will eat you alive
before I let you make a meal of me.
"Sometimes good people make bad decisions."
But she was wrong. There is no good and there is no bad.
This is why I
don’t can’t hate you.
Staring into her eyes, I remembered what it felt like that night better than I had remembered it the day after it happened.
I saw again those unkind notes on the walls - things like “get me out of here,” and “CUNT” scratched out in long, shaky, letters - and I felt again the stitching of the stiff khaki fashion I slept in and the coldness of those half-assed crocs I had on my feet.
I remembered it all too well.
So I remained motionless, locked in in that blue surveillance of truth. I let it fuck me up.
Blue. Her eyes were blue, deep like sundown on a cloudless evening. Not a spec of light was to be found - no, they were dark, and they were fierce, and they were coming for me.
But they were not relentless, and as she stared at me, I felt truth and untruth clawing at my insides, ready to be released, to be told, to be heard.
I said nothing.
My favorite shorts, Buddha bar, every lie you ever told me.
It’s always running with you:
Your hands, my thighs
Up the stairs and down them
From the truth.
I should be running from you.
MIA and not a day over twenty, how proud you must be. I can’t make you stay, but I will not allow this to become a cycle in your roundabout game. I don’t appreciate what you’ve done to me, and I won’t let this go.