Whatever

They say

Slow down
and tell an actual story
stop running your mouth
there’s not enough details
and you’re too weird or vague
nobody can relate

 

They say

You eat too much
you don’t eat enough
why can’t you be more ___
what is wrong with you
why don’t you care
why don’t you post anything on Facebook

 
 
Whatever

“What happened?”

What happened to him?

Which him?

 

The him who is an alcoholic, mentally ill, wants to blame me for everything, and make it out like I’m the one with an issue?
The him who stalked me for years, sexually abused me, and asked to have a threesome with my younger sister and I?
The him who cheated on me numerous times?
The him who I dated but mostly hooked up with who lives a few hours away?
The him who I tried to date when I was a teenager but lives in another country?
All the other hims that are no longer in my life?

 

 

What happened to her?

Which her?

 

The her I talked to everyday for weeks and one day stopped talking to her all together for no apparent reason?
The her, one of my ex’s girlfriends that made he made me have a threesome with?
The her who lived down the hall from me in college who had a secret crush on me?
The her who I thought was sleeping with my boyfriend?
The her, a boyfriend’s ex girlfriend I messaged on Facebook about him?
All the other hers that used to be my friends or enemies?

 

 

Nothing happened because it already did.

 

What happened to you?

I changed, change, am changing…

Part of me

I think about the day we met in my darkest hour
I don’t question my decision to walk away
but I feel as if I was wrong to do it
like I should be with you and not with him
I never had the insane chemistry
with him as I do with you
but he never hurt me or played me like you did

 

Then again,
maybe I hurt and played you
I walked away without a explanation
though I gave you one a million times
I made love to you one too many times to make you
think I’d do whatever you want

 

One day,
I shut down completely on you and showed you
you can’t control me
but you still think you do
I’ll magically come back to you
when things go south like I have

 

Then again,
you’re not the same person I met years ago
you’ve changed and I realized you’re never coming back
and I’m not either

Walk Away

I could say hello but I’m not interested in small talk
seeing your number makes me want to vomit
seeing your face makes me want to bash it in a million pieces

 

I could explain why I stopped talking to you out of the blue
but I refuse to be interrogated for something I didn’t do

 

I could rant on and on about the things you said and did
that no other man, a stable respectful man would do
you want to say it’s part of your culture or religion
if that were true, you give your people a bad name

 

You don’t listen or take a clue

 

I told you numerous times
you and I would never work out
I don’t like high heels
I don’t want your hands around my neck
I don’t appreciate the comments about
you having a threesome with my younger sister and I

 

I would never convert to Islam
or make an effort to learn your language
you forced high heels on my feet like I was
Cinderella and you were Prince Charming
(yeah, right)
you choked me and slapped my face
you showed me a knife and made a joke
about taking my life
I saw less and less of you
you began to stalk my younger sister and
her friends on Facebook
I told you that was the last straw

 

I told you I didn’t like you as much as you liked me
you proceeded to ask me out
I walked away without answering your requests to see you again
or answering your question, “Do you have someone else?”
I responded, “None of your business.”

Yeah, I know (OF) him

I heard his name
I never spoke his name
I saw his face yet never thought anything of it
Couple years go by, I hear it again
He’s a former drug dealer and addict
that is friends with the former class clown
They never made it out of this town

I friended people
and dated guys that are not from
this place
they were from another country
or town miles away

I ask myself why…

The person for me isn’t a junkie
pervert, liar, scrub, or psychopath
that believes I’d date him because
I said, “Hi.”

The person for me is someone that
does something and doesn’t constantly
accuse me of doing something I am not doing
especially on social media which the people
from my town like to do

I ask myself why people here are like that
I remind myself it’s because they have
nothing better to do
I ask myself if I belong here
I say no
I never have and never will
I’ve been disconnected with this place
my entire life

I’m a Scorpio

I’m horny as hell
I’m ruled by my genitals
Mars and Pluto
— after all

If you don’t like sex
or suck in bed
you shouldn’t date me
I wouldn’t rape you
I wouldn’t waste my time
I’m sexy as hell

I’m not a whore

I’m not a sex addict
like they say
I am your whore
for more then one night
if you don’t know it
don’t worry, I’ll show it
I’m not all talk
I’m all action

Don’t cross me
I wouldn’t cross you
if you do you will meet
another side of me
you have never known
it’s called death
you don’t want to meet
my sister, “Karma.”
save your drama

Accept and appreciate
I’m fucking
passionate as hell
there is no other

I was a child

Four years old

A boy kissed me on the bus

I ran home to my mother crying

‘I am pregnant’

because kissing meant sex.

 

I met my first best friend

I met my first boyfriend

 

 

Five years old

 

I was sitting in a bath tub

with my best friend

she opened her legs up

in front of me and started

playing with herself

 

She got up from the tub and stood over the toilet

like a boy

and pissed all over the place

 

I was disgusted and confused

did my ‘privates’ look like hers?

Was she really a boy? She ‘went’ like one.

Why can’t I do it?

 

Why can’t I be a boy?

 

One night…

 

I stayed at her house

her stepfather came in her room

at the middle of the night

and molested her

I’m not sure what exactly happened

I was laying on the floor confused

in a dreamlike state

It was pitch black, all I could hear was crying

 

I wasn’t sure if he got me too or if I was dreaming

he rubbed something on my crotch

and told me not to tell anyone

I ran out of her house to mine

and that was that

(I blurted it the next day to my mother)

(he eventually got caught by the mother — and arrested)

 

I drive by his house

Not by choice

It is the fastest route to get where I am supposed to be

It saves time, money, and energy

I live in the country

If I were to take to fastest route, I would have to drive in my town

to take the highway

I don’t have the time to search for a different method

It would be a waste of my energy

— he’s not that important

 

If he was that important

He wouldn’t have let me go like that

He didn’t like what I wrote in the final text I sent it

I made it clear what I wanted

He rejected but still wanted to be my ‘friend’

‘Friend’ meant fuck buddy

I decided enough was enough and I shot my mouth off

In a second, he was gone

I haven’t heard from since

 

But I get to see his house

when I drive to that city

That place it all happened

That place I hate with a passion

That place I wish I could erase

from my mind

But I can’t

A year later I got the ‘privilege’ of going back there

to study

(I got accepted in all the schools I applied too.

I just had to pick this one, probably because my mother.)

Not what I wanted

But I had no choice

But to sacrifice enormous amounts of money I don’t have

time, energy, and my well-being

 

For what?

What is the point?

 

So I can re-live what happened

again, again, until I go insane?

Or to put him in his cardboard-box shaped house

where he belongs.

He doesn’t belong with his motor vehicles and cars

He is immobile

He is stuck in that place

I am not

I am driving