Another name

Sometimes I feel you’re more tainted than I can bear

In drunken slurs you’ve cried apologies not meant for me

Because love has corroded me too, I can lend sympathy

But time has stitched me up and pushed me forward

And while I’m not the same, I don’t close my eyes thinking of another face and another name.



Lately I’ve been doing a lot of forgiving, though no one has apologized.

I forgave him because he was awake and aroused and I was neither.

I forgave her for telling me to lock away my feelings

I forgave him for not being there the one time I’ve asked for his help

I forgave him for laughing at me and putting me down

I’ve forgiven them because there is nothing else to do.

There will be no apologies.

I should be accustomed to that by now.

The silence is riling

The pain is numbing

The lonely is piercing.

Grateful and Upset

She says I’ve been through worse

Assuming she’s knows my life when I’ve known her for such a small part of mine

She’s doesn’t know about the nights slept on concrete floors and waking up to police lights

But it isn’t a competition

It’s that I have a right to be mad

The right to know what I deserve

Even if others are going through worse

I am aware and I am grateful

But the mentality that I need to be silent and a martyr because my words are not convenient, because my life isn’t harder is equivalent to the opposite: don’t be grateful, someone is living larger.


My anger stirs up laughter

But my willingness to understand makes them say I don’t get angry enough, that I’ll get stepped on

I’m realizing there is no winning

Playing devil’s advocate is apparently more pleasing

It isn’t a job

It’s my whole way of living

And I’m tired of not calling the shots

But it’s security

And fear

This, always my tendency

Don’t talk about it.

It’s hard to pretend there wasn’t something wrong
When I couldn’t help but flinch when you hugged me
When we were awoken and hurried into a truck as children and the only explanation was “mommy can’t breathe”

It’s hard to pretend there wasn’t something different about you
When you got lost ten minutes away from our house in a city you’ve lived in most of your life
When you got so angry when we played with our toys and chased us around the house
When the police needed to escort us home because you were driving on the wrong side of the highway no matter how much I yelled at you to stop

It’s hard not to feel like I lost something
When there were so many things I couldn’t do because I had to be with you
When you told me, you couldn’t be alone and for some reason that burden only fell on my shoulders, yet you said you need to be more like your brother, but he always left you

It’s hard to understand you
When you say let’s not talk about it