What Part of a Woman Speaks for Her
One Degree to Boiling II
P. -
Who didn’t care if it was consensual
There’s a common theme among those
Who’ve been forced to experience their bodies’ act
Against them
To trust so blindly
And
To learn so harshly
That there’s nothing you can do
Time castrates
Time numbs.
I can feel
The infection
The nerves scream that something is wrong
But don’t tell me where to look
It comes to me in waking
And keeps me there
Until I soften its blows with the kindness of opiates
Knowing fully well
That if such dependencies don’t age me poorly
These visions will.
I am a suspect of my own making
And with no other defendant to try
I turn against myself
And say
I am to blame
For everything
I am to blame for trusting you
I am to blame for giving in
I am to blame for being weak
I am to blame for not fighting back
I am to blame for not screaming at you
Until you could no longer pretend that my voice didn’t matter
I am to blame for being the shoulder you cried on
I am to blame for abandoning you
Before I had the courage to admit
Why
I am to blame for letting you tear me down
So slowly,
I scarcely felt it
And ignored
How
My skin blistered in the boiling water
And I just lay there
Starry eyed
Wishing that
You never said
You loved me