I'm Not
I’m not a whole person anymore,
I don’t think I will ever be again,
Just one of the things
He stole from me.
Parts of me died up in that
Rotting trailer I was shackled too.
Parts of me that I’m glad had died.
Parts of me that I miss.
Parts of me that I’ll never get back.
Some of those things,
The ones stolen from me,
The ones I can never get back,
No matter how hard and how long
I search for them,
Visit me in dreams.
He never fed me love,
Not on a silver spoon,
Not on a golden spoon,
Not even on a rusted spoon.
I was undeserving of love.
If I wanted any love,
I had to lick it off a knife,
Not a soft butter knife,
Nor a rubber knife,
The knife that was used to stab
Me in my back.
I was underserving of love.
In a way I learned to love him,
Because loving him
Became a different way to hate
Myself.
Is it okay to grieve
About the person you could
Have been
Without them?
Is it okay to wonder
About the life that could
Have been
Without them?
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