you give me a heartbeat
you give me blood flow and a space to live
you fill me with breath time and time again
the deadly and majestic wonders of my brain fit inside your skull
and despite you keeping me alive for twenty one years,
i cannot love you.
i cannot love the body that continues to wake each day
despite that body once being the body of an innocent child,
i cannot love the you that was once her
because i will cry for her, but scream at you.
i will extend my arms out to her, but destroy yours
and perhaps i will never heal the rotted place in her heart,
for it grew into you.
i hold a grudge against you, my body
and it has become a repellent,
for upon its reflection, i turn away
i scream in the bathtub because it is not fair.
her innocence was raped in a sparkly yellow shirt
and i will never be the same.
i scream in my pillow because i am tired of hating.
i am tired of watching blood run down the drain.
i am tired of tears pooling in my eyes at the sight of myself.
so i am sorry to my body,
because despite the horrors you have witnessed and survived,
the abuse that wrote itself all over you, the filth they left you with and the strength you mustered,
i cannot love you.
therefore, i abuse you.
