i was made a women in the backseat of my man-lovers first car.
a heartbreak motor, a gritty dashboard.
the ripe age of a nonsense number.
take me anywhere, a place i haven't been, the kind i can't forget even if i wanted too.
can a man 'give love' in his dads old car?
the remains of the girl i used to be left in the trunk.
a name for his list, a reborn women i become.
the difference it makes.
just the difference it makes.
a transition from girlhood i felt so ready for, yet felt so destroyed and older in the aftermath.
i don't seek the same belongings as yesterday.
i can't remember when i was a girl either.
the rope distance between me and my younger self was cut, just like a umbilical cord at birth.
YOU ARE READING
lover illusion
Poetrywhatever you want, please take it. may my own desires be thrown away, take my heart, soul, and body with intention. take it all.
