Retroactive

When he said that he loved me, I didn’t believe him.

I told him that he could not love a monster,

and I began to list all of those things that made me unworthy of love.

Growing up, I was told to be modest.

Only modesty was not the absence of ego, but a denial. 

The words “beautiful” and “intelligent” were deleted from my vocabulary.

I let harsh words fall on deaf ears, but deaf ears lead to a dead tongue,

and I was silent. 

Parents tell you that when you’re getting picked on at school to tell a teacher. 

But they never told you what to do when the bully was yourself,

and I cannot even begin to tell you 

the ways in which I’ve learned to write the word worthless.

In English it’s nine letters, in German it’s seven, and in French only four -- 

I can sign the word worthless better than I can sign my own name, and 

I’ve even learned what it looks like carved into my skin:

Have you ever seen an alphabet that bleeds?

What he said that he loved me, I didn’t believe him. 

When he asked me why, I said...I don't.