(I needed to write this out)

There is nothing
left to revive
so please don’t speak
when you pass me.

I don’t even want your hellos.
Not now,
not after all this time.

Not after the month you made
me pariah
leper
thing with a disease called virginity
that wasn’t willing to give it up
to something that would leave her unsatisfied and
disappointed.

You are a boy
in man’s clothing
and overly priced branding.
I am a girl
who knows how to dress
and wears
her bruised ego
like an ascot
and you stand behind her back,
pulling the silk a little tighter.

Don’t you know
that even if you choke me
the silence will still scream?

That your brother and I can have a
conversation
without complaining how bad we got it;
there is no education barrier,
there is no made-up sexual tension
and he accepts that
I know when the material hugs me
a little too
rightly.

I walk every day
in a graveyard of what
we could’ve been.
I walk every day
feeling like there is blackness
crawling over inch of my skin,
letting my brain rattle in my head
just to knock my thoughts out
and let delusions in.

Let another parade me by a girl
who only finds interest in him
when he’s with me.
And I let it be.

I know how to let them use me.
It’s one of the few things I’m still confident
of being good at.
Ace at.
Some view of myself
that I’ve accepted as beautiful
if not by her brokenness.

And this is why I’m pissed,
because there never was any friendship,
there was some false allusion of respect
and there was the constant reminder of him
treating me like shit
hoping I’d like it,
even though I never deserved it.
And I still don’t deserve it,
even as I’m sitting here crying about it.

You pulled your mouth away
and slid the knife in.

Wonder why my blood is rusted
ignoring my back
where the tip of a blade is shoved
and a heart is ruptured.

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