I am Venomous

I remember the day my father left, I turned to my mother and said “does this mean I can call you mommy now?”

I remember blocking her from fists with my tiny arms, only to be thrown to the side

But  my love for my mother is stronger than any hand looking for a place to land.

I remember learning in school, that children from abused homes, will have trouble with social relationships later in life, including romantic relationships.

So when you stare at me with that drooping face, silent eyes and silent mouth, ignoring every word I just threw at you, I want to scream because sounds of fists hitting skin are easier to listen to then the silence you bring into my life. silence is deafening when it comes from the one you love.

Which makes me wonder why I’m so quick to love you when you can’t even speak my name, is it me that’s having trouble or is it you?

I ask you if you’ve ever thought about dying and you say no, you have not, you have never wanted to kill yourself and feel the end but I do not believe you because you spend way too much time on the couch playing video games without ambition to truly want to be alive.

you say you have wanted to kill someone before, shotgun poised in hand, opening the door, staring at a man sleeping on the couch that you wish were dead.

But to this day, you go see him every week to mow his lawn while he laughs about your mothers bruises.

bruises are hard to erase, they fade but you still find yourself pushing the skin where they once laid, hoping for a reminder to know what happened was real but everything seems to fade in the end and so should your sadness, but mine never did.

Now when I look into the eyes of any man, I think of my mother.

I realize that over time, I slowly stopped hugging her because the pain of being touched by another is just too great.

but I’m so quick to jump into the bed of a lover, creating flourished romances out of nothing, finding myself groped and grinning allowing it when this man will never love me, but I won’t let the woman who gave me everything hug me because I want to be loved but only look for it in places that it will never be.

and maybe that’s fucked up. but I’m terrified of finding myself unable to be loved again. your silence has broken me.

like moist wood in the summer time, I have become worthless, I cannot burn, I only rot. the only house I can be used to build is one for termites and let me tell you something, termites eat each others feces, eerily similar to the men I attract; they are full of shit.

They call me beautiful, getting inside and pulling me apart, piece by piece, until they are full, breaking down my tough fibrous being, making me imagine myself as some red lipped beauty queen. but I call myself disaster and they agree. my friend agrees but adds “beautiful,” but what is beautiful about walking into my apartment building in the morning, smudged eyeliner and smeared lipstick, holding my head up, tears back and collapsing in the shower swearing to myself that I am unforgettable.

but let me tell you something, I will plague your mind like insanity that gives in to no sedation,

I am the sickness, making you weak, sending you through the streets, unforgettable sight like dead bodies lining the road, melting in the hot sun

because I don’t have to be beautiful to consume your mind,

do not tempt me with your feeble attempts to harm me because I will drag my ass out of that shower, put on a new shade of bitch and walk out the door untouchable, you will never know the strut of my walk of shame twice because I am venomous and you could not handle me.