Throwing on a dress,
looking in the mirror, I know.
I know this isn’t who I am.

Lipstick covers the sour scowl,
The blush conceals the contempt.

Driving down that dreaded road,
Heading where most dead men roam.
Heading where that dead man hangs.

You shove scriptures down my throat,
Hoping my skin inks black.

Yet every time I turn my back,
You act like I performed the heinous act.
You act like I created that crack.

And maybe I did,
when I first turned away.

But when I did,
I felt something shift.
Control back in my court.

I decided for myself,
that I wouldn’t wait.

Instead of pleading for someone,
someone I knew wouldn’t save me,
I saved myself.

I wasn’t looking for a savior,
Yet you wanted me to find one.

So I did,
One you would never like.
Just because I could.

I found space

I don’t understand.
I’ve tried and tried and tried
to play your stupid games,
yet I can never win.

You’ll always have another name on your lips,
tainting my heart,
making me feel unworthy.

Unworthy of your love,
your touch,
your attention,
your pride.

I’m tired and angry.
Tired from the comparisons,
angry from fighting,
tired from crying,
angry from wasting my time.

I’ll always be another piece on your chess board.
A pawn,
A queen,
a rook,
a knight,
but never the king.

How much longer can I last?
If I’m always the loser,
how much further can I fall,
How much more do I have to lose?

I’ve separated and lost more
than gaining and finding.
Fear and frustration ruining friendships
before they could nurture.

I’ve tried for so long,
hoping that this was the one.
I could not go all this long,
if I was a walking tragedy,
Right?

You leer down at me,
Treating me as if I were the wrong one.
As if I am the evil.

Inherent,
creeping and crawling
up those cavernous walls

But are you really as great as you think,
if you feel the need
to tear into me?

Many before me have burned at the stake,
many after me will die at your hands.
Will I, too, suffer the same fate?

If I stand up for my rights,
if I fight for life,
if I survive,
am I wrong?

I know I am not,
but I will suffer like I am.
For I think.
For I bite.

For I know
that seeing that sunrise,
tasting that breeze,
touching that leaf,
is worth more than the gold inlaid in my ring.

I am not your daughter.
I am not your son.
I am not yours.

Not yours to touch,
To claim,
To hold.

You cannot claim
What has gone unnoticed,
Who has felt unclean,
Who has felt uncared.

It is a funny thing, I like to think,
When I lay in my bed.
I would always worry about you,
Yet that concern was never here for me.

You always complain that I never listen,
Yet while I change,
You never will.

My apologies would be followed by a butterfly,
Yours by a jellyfish.
Both beautiful to look at,
One more poisonous than the other.

Now when things are finally hard enough,
When you actually have to care,
it would look bad if you didn’t show change.

Funnily enough,
I have never felt more seen than I do now,
Or more trapped.

I finally have the chance that my younger self always craved,
Begging to be held in warm arms.
Now those arms are a shell encasing me from the world,
Acting as if I would die if I strayed too far from home.