What Have I Got to Lose?

*Trigger Warning* Themes of Abuse

Photo by Pasindu Pathiranage on Unsplash

I can’t do this without
a drink, to read your book
I am stuck in the rust you’re
trying to pull me out
I’m like a lock that won’t
open I’m like a door
that’s jammed shut. With
all you went through I
don’t believe I’m like you
I don’t believe I’m with you
in this nest of horrors, but
it’s your nest of horrors
not mine, mine has a veil
and trust me when I tell you
it wasn’t as bad, no one beat
me with canes, only screamed,
only yelled, only swore, only
ignored, cold as ice, I am stuck
in the rust you’re trying to pull
me out. She blocked the door
with a chair against the mad-
man as I played my violin
against the ranting, the raving,
the crying, the screaming, I’m
rusted in here, can’t you see
that I’m stuck you’re trying
to pull me out with your book
with your chanting your blessed
smooth healing, your hope, but
I can’t stop running because
it’s complex, yes it is, it’s
complex, and I don’t know if
I’ll ever get better from this.
The nonstop of it all, the name-
calling, the yelling, the drunken
berating, the never-ending chaos,
but no one beat me with canes.
Begging for her forgiveness,
“Please talk to me, don’t ignore
me, please let me make it up to
you somehow, somehow, please
let me make it up to you. Please
just love me for an hour, for a
moment, let me construct a
self to take out in the world.”
The eyes through the keyholes,
the curtains, the doorjambs,
the PE teachers who wouldn’t
leave me alone, the list goes on,
and I’m not ready to come clean
I am stuck in the rust, you’re trying
to pull me out I’m like a lock that
won’t open I’m like a door
that’s jammed shut. Oh, give me
your book, let it soothe me,
let it heal the ghosts that
have lived in my bones
all these years
wreaking havoc.