anger

i.
because who are you to tell me how to feel
pain
what it is to feel
absolutely nothing?
who the fuck are you to stay by my side
all night
crying
asking god for forgiveness
asking him to show himself and quit being such a fucking coward?
who were you to ever lay a hand on me?

ii.
because you never stayed up like you said you did
not until 6 am
not tearing your own heart out
for me.
you lied about beauty
and how much you admired the way i carried it.
you know what?
it was all bullshit
and you were only angry because i knew the truth.

iii.
because i was never what you wanted -
what we
wanted.
i was never what you dreamed of and you
you were too cowardly to admit it.
too stuck inside yourself
inside the little world that moves around in that fat head of yours
like hate.
hate
hate
hate wasn't strong enough of a word for you.
you had to use the bitter language that you always bit under your tongue.
fucking cunt
fucking bitch
fucking worthless piece of shit
waste of fucking space.
no, hate wasn't strong enough
because telling me that you hated me just flowed straight
in
and straight
out.
you wanted to hit me harder than that.

iv.
because you wouldn't take no for an answer
you wouldn't take your fucking hands off me
and because no one fell for my stories
when i had to explain
the bruises.
because you knew that when you slammed my body into your bedroom wall
i was defenseless.
you knew that i had to obey
you knew that if you wanted me to
i was going to fuck you
you knew that if i said no
all you had to do
was hit the word "no" right out of my mouth
and into what you wanted.


v.
because you kissed my neck
bit the skin above my collar bones
and whispered in my ear
'baby why do you even bother?'
and because you were there
when i took a few too many
and you
you didn't care enough
to try and save me.
you let her find me
screaming 'what have you done'
and
'you throw up right now-
you get it out right now-
please-
please.'
and you couldn't even ask me
why.

vi.
because you knew that i was fragile.
you knew that you could fuck other people
and i would still come crawling back.
you knew that the only things keeping my spine straight
were the therapy sessions
and the medication.
you knew that i was too afraid to leave you
you
you knew
you knew you could read me like a fucking book.

vii.
i'm angry
because you made me think no one could ever love me.
you
you made me hate myself
you
you made me hate the thought of love when really
i never knew what love was.
you thought you taught me love when really
you only taught me to hate myself
and how to cover up
new bruises.