Beginning of an Apology

Here’s what I want to say:

I hate being naïve.

I hate being a child

At the bottom of a stairwell

And I know I’m a child,

At the bottom of a stairwell,

But I want to feel powerful too.

I read that as: synonymous:

Taste what it’s like to be cruel.

I had a wet dream

About wielding my organs

In a way that would let me hurt someone.

I read that as: antonymous:

You are virgin of “Virgin Conqueror,”

You are third of “first love,”

You are victim of “child abuse”

If it even was “child abuse,”

You are weak/you are low/you are wrong.

And I know that it’s shitty and you didn’t ask for

Co-opted pain to be my release

But I haven’t learned how to touch myself right

I haven’t learned how to love myself right

I thought that your words were so touching, alright?

And I made a mistake.

Unspeakably.

You Are Not Yourself, Maybe You Never Will Be

Find a girl who wrote emails to screenwriters,

Hoping to learn their craft.

Find a girl whose name rang out in hallways,

…yes, i won awards, yes i was the big fish just like you were…

Find a child who wasn’t afraid of herself

Who didn’t find FL/A}SHBAC(KS!

Who didn’t scream FLASHBACK

Who couldn’t inhale but could breathe.

Bring me Alicia who used to

Used to was better at loved to

Had something she loved

Besides loving a person,

Who had enough love for everything.

Find me the version that dreamed of this thing

That has ruined the person who dreamed.