You tell me to quiet down cause my opinions make me less beautiful,
But I was not made with a fire in my belly so I could be put out.
I was not made with a lightness on my tongue so I could be easy to swallow.
I was made heavy, half blade and half silk,
Difficult to forget and not easy for the mind to follow.
He'll gut me with his fingers no doubt,
Like he's scraping the inside of a cantaloupe clean.
He plows into me with two fingers,
And I am mostly shocked,
It feel's like rubber against an open wound.
I do not like it.
You begin pushing faster,
And faster.
But I feel nothing.
You search my face for a reaction,
So I begin acting,
Like the naked women in the videos,
You somehow forget to close.
I imitate their moans,
Hollow
And
Hungry.
You ask if it feels good,
I reply yes so fast,
You'd think it's rehearsed.
But the acting,
You do not notice.
My mother is in the habit of offering more love than I can carry.
My father is absent.
I am a war,
The border between two countries,
The collateral damage,
The paradox that joins the two,
But also splits them apart.
Emptying out of my mothers belly,
Was my first act of disappearance.
Learning to shrink for a family,
Who like's their daughters invisible,
Was the second.
The art of being empty,
Is simple.
Believe them when they say,
"You are nothing"
Repeat it to yourself,
Like a wish.
Repeat it so much,
The only reason you know your alive,
Is from the heaving in your chest.
I am nothing.
I am nothing.
I am nothing.
I am nothing.
I
Am
Nothing
.
