when i was a child i would hide from my mother's wrath / i would hide behind the vacuum on the bottom shelf of the linen closet / where she'd never find me / where she'd never reach me
during holidays id lock myself in the bathroom / where my cousin couldnt touch me
when my uncle would visit / id hide behind furniture / and pray he wouldnt walk into the room
my whole life was spent walking on tiptoe / and staying up late / and hiding food wrappers at the bottom of the trash can
knives as paintbrushes / blood as paint / and skin as canvas
isnt that a sick thought?
i was a child.
i was a child.
i was a child.
but when i was 15 / i met a boy / i lived in silence for so long i forgot what being heard felt like
did i ever even know in the first place?
i met a boy with big blue eyes / who dyed his hair pink because it was my favorite color / i met a boy with crooked teeth / and a hopeful demeanor / i met a boy who held me gently / who loved me like i was something worth being loved / i met a boy who showed me all his scars / and let me kiss them one by one / i met a boy who sang me stupid songs / and would stay up well past midnight just to talk to me
i met a boy who showed me that being seen didnt have to be dangerous.
and then the world took him from me.
the boy who showed me how to live had to be the one to die.