He treats me like a Queen,
Still I can’t help but wonder if he will be like you too
Funny how I am afraid of what he might become yet the most comforting place I’ve ever been is his arms.
I look to him for protection yet I fear him and what he might do,
He’s never given me a reason to doubt him but most of the men from my past life haunt my thoughts, spreading lies like wildfire
I run to him, almost as if being attracted by a magnet, it’s out of my control
I cringe whenever he takes his belt off,
I know he would never hit me yet the memory of leather striking my skin like a whip,
My mother’s hands pounding on the door and her dread-filled screams,
lingers in the back of my mind like a nightmare I cannot escape from
Now that I am older it’s easier to understand she knew what he was capable of,
She had been in my position before,
She never told me as a child because I had this glorified image of him,
He was the first man that seemed like he wanted to take care of us and love us,
I viewed him as a father and even called him Dad
He had just loved his alcohol and cigars more than his love for us
I sometimes start to think about what our future children will look like,
But I stop in my tracks because that evil voice in my head asks “what if he turns out like him”?
Will it always be like this, I fear

He punched me last week
And told me that he was joking and that's between me and him
My friends saw and helped me break it off yesterday
Today is my eighteenth birthday
And I am nothing like my mother

pulling petals
until march 5th
will it be you
that i share my life with

Midday and the whisper of a chill rode the end of the breeze.
****** feet and a restless tongue; You never knew how to hurt me.
I didn’t know much about human anatomy but I could read charts
of the spine, heart, ribs, where are the unconventional entrances.
I decided on the space between the third and the fourth rib.
Dug in as hard as I could.

Ana,

I've known you for a while,
And at first I was afraid.
I didn't know what you'd do
Or whether you could help me.

Now I don't see why
Everyone I know is so
Pressed about me
Being friends with you...

I don't know why
they don't like you.
They try to keep me away
From you and your help.

You're a kind person,
And you've helped me.
You make me happy.
You fix my problems.

I hope you can explain
Why people don't like you.

and in that deafening silence,
i’ve never wished more to be heard,
wracked with endless demurs of regret and remorse –
impure, impure, impure.

ii.
but it’s my choice, isn’t it?
to bear the knot of pearls come undone,
to feel it shift from skin to soul,
to speak of loving, and then let go.
(i see this now as a luxury i could not afford.) iii.
if i don’t rise come blooming spring,
ring the church bells for those left unheard,
wash the red from the bed sheets,
please unhinge my strife from the earth;

and know this:

a man is no longer a man,
after his unbidden pillage,
has left an innocent soul shaken;
unholy.

holy, holy, holy.

her way of venting is unique
other than poems
which is pretty normal
she thinks

while showering
she sits down
puts some background beats on high
and sings her heart out
it’s all improvisation
but it helps
a little

tonight
she sang of hurt and
staying alive
for her friend’s sakes
but never for her own

is she ok?
she doesn’t know

The night isn't gentle anymore.
Its darkness has a vice-like grip,
shattered, unwelcome
on her fragile throat,
leading to a crimson door,
full of destructive, intrusive thoughts about
sleeping
with eyes never wanting to open
again.

The night no longer offers rest
for her shattered, melancholical, heavy head
to gently abide the terrors of
turning silver to red on her already scarred flesh,
beucase life seems to stay
just like that.

© fey (30/12/20)