you don't leave bruises on my skin
you leave slashes on my brain
you leave me with nothing
and every time i come back
you do it again
and every time i leave
i have an entire week to get over things you have said to me
that jerked tears from my eyes
that pulled at my stomach while i tried to sleep
that carved holes in my brain late at night
so now i hope you're proud of your little poet
because every word out of my mouth and from my fingertips is a rebellion
a rebellion against my emotions
a rebellion against the things you've said to me
a rebellion against your blames
a rebellion against every "yes, sir" and "no, sir" and "i love you, dad"
a rebellion against every single thing you've ever said to me
and true or not true
it leaves the slashes on my brain as visible as the stars in the city sky
it's not visible but just because you don't see it doesn't mean it's not there
and every single week i come back to you
to the same harsh words
to the same venomous tones
and to be honest
'sir', i don't give a damn what you think of me
because i am what i make me
im not what you say i am
and this
is a rebellion.
