Why?
Maybe it was the moves
maybe it was stress
maybe it was too much
maybe it was my first friend's death
maybe it was the bullying
maybe it was never talking
maybe it was being spit on
being isolated
knowing I am not the person people like
ever.
I don't think so.
maybe it was taking care of my siblings
maybe it was giving it my all
maybe it was growing up at 13
maybe it was my parents suicidal-ness
maybe it was my mother's highs and lows
maybe it was my sisters tears: helpless pain
maybe it was my first kiss in a parking lot
unwanted
trying to dodge and push
away.
I don't think that was it either.
maybe it was when dad lost his job. Twice.
maybe it was when everyone wanted to be me
maybe it was my first lousy boyfriend
maybe it was the running
maybe it was the anorexia
maybe it was the silent suffering
maybe it was the not sleeping
always trying
so hard
to be better.
that wasn't it.
maybe it was the screaming
maybe it was the always apologizing for existing
maybe it was never crying
maybe it was the boy that lied
maybe it was being used
maybe it was leaving home
trying to escape
maybe it was the one
I finally loved and he
said he loved me too
maybe it was that.
the heartbreak
when I had to leave
the only one who knew all of this
and could still love me
despite it all.
maybe it was because
I couldn't stop crying
the dam in my heart broke
with it and tears gushed out
maybe it was because I hope
that despite the badness
good still exists
Naive, trusting, innocent
in some ways.
But he said it was because I wore a dress
he couldn't help himself
I looked nice
when I asked him to talk to me
I just needed to talk
So I could stop crying
It was his job
The dress my little sister gave me
for my birthday
That's why he did it, he said.
That was it.
The tipping point.
And while I am trying not to break
to be strong
to forgive myself for being myself
because the last bit of good I had
was used against me
Like a flower in the wind
an ignorant child
snapped my stem
plucked my petals
and tossed me to the dirt
unaware of my roots
that grew around the rocks
the leaves that pushed through
the unforgiving ground
that tried despite the hardship
uncaring that flower
was not there's for the picking
no higher power gave them the right
that flower was my last hope
to finally bask in the sunlight
the last chance to have something good
and it was taken unwillingly
because I had no defense
no one to protect me
because I looked too pretty.
That's why.