violent_tendancies.txt

Don’t touch me

There’s a storm in these veins, and sometimes it                                erupts

Shows itself between the cracks, where the metal starts to rust and I

                Have it on a leash.

Don’t touch me

Because I will hold the rope slack

                And it will leap out, though in which direction I don’t know,

Because sometimes                        it hits you,

And sometimes                it hits me.

It’s not the sort of thing I’d like to live with

But I need it to live.

(It’s not as sadistic as it sounds)

 

—Listen, when they treat you like dirt on the playground,

You say when you grow up you’ll be more

Then you grow up and into curves and you have to form edges

Because all you’ve become is meat on the street, a bow in your hair, pink in their cheeks

And nothing has changed.

It’s          Just        Another Playground      For         Another Day

but theres no teachers looking out for when they tear into your skin, no bell to save you

theres only you and whatever teeth you choose to bare

so forgive me if i bear these god-given teeth

Don’t touch me

I don’t focus on softness

I focus on survival

And I will never let a threat approach

                (and if that means pushing back all the good things with it, so be it,

at least I am        safe)

 

Don’t touch me

It makes my skin crawl,

To show kindness where I clearly deserve none

                Don’t you know what I am and

                Don’t you care?

You’ll have to wash your hands after

And I’ll drench my body in bleach

                Until I can’t even remember your name

I imagine myself the protector,                  though I know I am not

(              Let me dream of a better future

Where these toxic words

Are no longer a black mark

Let me fight for those who cannot            )

 

Don’t touch me

Because I’m not going to change

And if that’s why you draw me near, give up now

I won’t change for you,

I won’t change for anyone.

This is my heartbeat,

(rattled and loud and vicious as it is)

When the angry red light is gone, the darkness takes its place

And I can’t even get out of bed

 

                If that’s what you want for me,

Do not touch me.

This is not who I am.

But it is what is meant for me.

Why would they bless me with such a sharp motivator,

If I wasn’t meant to use it?

This poem is about: 
Me

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