Tag Archives: psychological violence

thistledown

11 Mar

maybe one day,

i will use your name,

but not today,

when there is so much at stake.

today i am not brave,

and the gaslights you dropped inside of

me fill my mouth until it is mute

like cotton, like the thistledown outside

your house in Shelton.

maybe one day

i will stop cowering before her

and the shit she might talk

loudly, over my voice

and the friendship and love that

guilt me into submission.

not today.

today,

i am not brave.

exo-

11 Mar

and i want to cross my arms

like an insect’s legs across my breasts;

and solder my hoodie

to my exposed skin

for the first time in three years.

and for the first time in three years,

my body is not

lofted by wings, but rather

a dessicated husk

with its hairs on end.

i’m different, because i build the cocoon

and fold my skeletal legs across my thorax

inside of it

and don’t bloom.

i was already a butterfly.

now, i am

an exoskeleton

filled with rot.

new symptoms bloom on my skin,

lilke bot flies.

quit laying your eggs

inside of me.

assailable

11 Mar

this isn’t about revenge, and i’m not out to

prove something.

this is about me, and my journey,

and my sorting through my

maze of scars,

so i don’t use his name.

i won’t say this to your face,

because however unassailable i am,

i am afraid most of all that you will still assail me.