Have you ever been blinded by love? Have you ever let yourself fall down the rabbit hole with someone you trusted? I fell hard, and I'm still trying to get up.
Three years ago, I gave pieces of my life to a boy who would never love me as much as I loved him. When I say "gave" I really mean that he took them without asking and swallowed them whole. This boy took all I had to offer and left me with nothing. We lived our lives between sunny smiles and harsh arguments. Our relationship was too hot, too heavy, too soon. I was a good, God-fearing girl, and I wasn't planning on compromising my integrity for a silly boy, but he had other plans. All the rules I had about my body were disregarded. I was touched when I asked to be left alone, I was manipulated into being who he wanted me to be. For a year, I was taken advantage of again and again, and it took me a long time to come to terms with this. I'm afraid of Toyota Corollas, and green sleeping bags. I can't feel my toes when I think of his warm skin touching mine, and my hair stands on end when I drive past the street where we had our first kiss. I wish I could take it all back, but I know I can't. I'm finding that turning my pain into art is going to be my only saving grace; other than Beyoncé. My mom tells me I'm strong, and I can feel it. I have the strength bubbling up inside me, and I'm ready to let it erupt. Finally ready to heal from this mess of a life he's caused.
The Last Time I Went to Church
I sit in this chapel holding hands with the devil.
When I met you, I found out that hell was real,
And the demons wear Dolce and Gabbana cologne.
I try to ignore the excitement in your church pants,
(Which are way too tight),
And the panic begins.
I just satisfied your hunger,
But I can already tell you're going to want seconds as soon as we leave this "safe haven."
The sermon cannot heal the wounds you caused an hour ago,
And I can feel the fire still under your skin.
You're ready to consume all with your hell-flames,
And God cannot help me hide.
So I sit in this chapel with charred hands.
Unable to escape from your grasp,
I've learned to treat my third degree burns.