I will not tell you rape stories
only stories of not-rape. The not-thing
that left me drawn out and back-carpet-burned
in basement beds and on littered floors,
dull with liquor and nowhere to go.
I will speak, today, only of my snapping thinness
laid out down beneath the not-lover scraping himself
upon me saying things like love me.
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1 comment:
wow. you're really good!
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