Friday, May 25, 2012

Hell Hath No Fury

Hell Hath No Fury
I have some questions for you that I may not have been able to ask before.
If I close my eyes and think back I can still feel your breath or your tongue against my neck.
I can still feel your hands creeping up my sides, your dick between my thighs.
I remember the smell of liquor on your breath; clearly hear the conversation playing back and forth.
Is that how you get all the girls?
Do you get them a little tipsy;
tell them you’ll get them a sweater                                    if they’ll walk up to your house with you?
How would your mom feel if she knew?
When I see you on the street
my heart jumps for a quick beat
as I pray to God you didn’t see me too.
And if you come up to me to try to embrace me,                                                        I hold my breath.
I can still feel your breath or your tongue against my neck.
When I was a little girl my parents told me monsters weren’t real, and I understand now.
Monsters look a lot like you.
                                                            You proved what happens when people get too close.
fuck you for trying to steal a piece of me that I am reserving for someone better.
I will never be okay—but you won’t be either.
when you see me I recognize that you know what you did.
I’m fine. You didn’t break me
I don’t give you the credit for being the reason I will never trust another man.
I’m a stronger person.
Calling you a man is just a little too extreme.
Men know the difference between right, wrong.
   Sure as hell knows the difference between yes and no.
You’re nothing but a little boy who was trying to play with fire
 your hand caught in the flames.
I’m woman.
 I’ve learned to accept that sometimes the people you think you can trust the most are the ones who are going to watch you fall the fastest.
Stand on the sidelines with tight little smiles as you go up in flames,
when you emerge they have nothing to say.

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