I still hate that boy
Those boys
Sentenced to always be trapped
The hopelessness
I still feel it
First attempt: age 13 ? I just turned 13
Pain pills because my ceiling fan couldn’t support my weight
Prescription pills: age 15
Only had me throwing up because I had to drink mustard water
My legs remained intact and active
More pussy for his thick fingers, not mine
I want to leave this body
Every day
Every moment
Every second
Playing dress up for daddy’s image like a fish in a bowl too small for it to thrive
This is forever?
Trapped in this tie
This cycle
This pathetic tower of self-hatred
Brief flashes of something nice
Of course, it is unhealthy
I’m exposed, punished, tainted
My body isn’t mine
Does a prisoner own their cell? Exactly
Please
Touch me, crush me
And let me sleep like a little girl on a sunday morning
It’s the only thing I’m here for
The Paramour 