I am broken.

My skin, my soul, my heart, my mind.

I am broken.

I am wounded.

My heart has been stabbed  and

Is bleeding out of silence

Crying hoping someone would see….

But they don’t. 

Not because they aren’t observant

But because they don’t care.

You don’t care about the things you’ve done to wound me.

I am wounded.

I am ambivalent. 

What you did brought so many mixed feelings.

Literal feelings.

I’m aroused at the slightest touch

Yet I dissociate so much that I am tense…everywhere.

I hate myself for longing for love in the first place.

So I numb myself.

Deaden my desire to feel anything at all.

Feel pleasure, feel alive, feel okay.

Because after what you did to me,

Nothing will ever be the same.

I am ambivalent. 

I am alone.

I wasn’t alone when you were selling me,

But then I was rescued.

And now, no one rapes me any longer,

And I feel alone.

Where are all the men every night?

Why am I allowed to sleep?

Why am I in bed by myself?

I am alone.

I am angry.

I can’t take out my anger with you

So instead, I take it out on myself.

Mr. Razorblade and I have a date every night.

And you know who is on my mind?  You.

I remind myself that nobody can hurt me more than I can hurt myself.

I am now scarred and cut,

I have blood dripping down my arm,

But its soothing.

It takes away my pain.

But yet, I am still angry.

I am angry.

I am broken.

I am wounded.

I am ambivalent.

I am alone.

I am angry.