Lessons Poem

His touch was a drug,

One I couldn’t live without.

But I shouldn’t have,

I never should have.

I never should have talked to him,

Never should have walked to him,

Never should have unlocked myself to him.

Because then I was land locked,

Then I was shell shocked.

Padlocked, Restocked,  into his world.

into a wave of happiness.

And I gawked.

But I never should have,

I never should have talked with him.

He had these gentle hands that lifted me,

Brought me to the top of the world.

Curled into a dream world,

That was not the real world.

More like the underworld.

I should have fled,

Hid away from him.

But, at the end of the day.

He made me feel,

He could do that.

Make you forget pain, and sorrow.

Hold on for another tomorrow.

He could make you feel like the center of the universe.

His Universe.

Slowly, ever so slowly,
I submitted.

So when his hand would grip mine a little to hard,

Or raise up my thigh a little to high,

I let him.

And in the end,

He owned me.

He bought his way with excuses,

Excuses to get agreement,

From me,

From them.

And his arms,

Covered in thorns,

They would snake around my waist.

A Snake that was two faced,

Covered  in disgraced,

Untraced,

Sour taste, snot-faced distaste. 

Giving a bad chase like toxic industrial waste.

But I still gave in,

So when he would come over angry,

Wanting things,

I gave them, because I thought that was love.

Its what he told me love was.

I never saw the pain, when I limped through school,

I never saw the bones, when I lost too much weight.

Never saw the cruel fate,

Pure hate,

No weight girl I was.

Someone he got to “home plate”.

A playmate,

He would inflate,

Call his date.

A girl who grew flowers to decorate,

Never saw his mortality rate,

Never saw I was only the bait.

Then, one day I woke up.

Like from a trance,

And I saw the bruises under my eyes from no sleep,

I saw the ribs through my skin.

And the fingers that for so long lifted me gently,

Had begun to claw and drag across my skin.

Making me feel like a sin.

Words that had melted my core, began to seep in

And burn a path like acid.

Acid that would leave open wounds.

Torn burnt flesh,

A whole in my heart,

and mind.

And these wounds were meant to be new homes for scars.

Scars that would never heal over.

Scars that would blemish my body.

Scars that would indicate my weakness.

Scars that would showcase his victory.

Scars that would mute my voice.

Scars that would cut through my thoughts, like a knife.

Scars that were meant to tally,

Tally disobedience

And hold lessons,

lessons that he taught me.