You
keep asking me what's wrong. Honestly, honey, it's not that I don't
know. I just don't know how to tell you: sometimes I can feel you
grating against my bones like a second skeleton—you inflate me till
I'm spilling out of my skin. And sometimes you're spider legs racing
down my spine, some phantom shiver that might've been the wind.
I
don't know what to tell you. I can't wait to hear your voice. I hate
listening to you trying so hard to love me. I'm unlovable. I'm all
thorns with no rose. I keep trying to tell you that.
You
don't listen. Or you listen too well. I never could tell. Do you
hoard my words in the closet corners of your soul or do you watch
them settle on the hairs on your arms and pop like soap bubbles
against your skin? I want to know what you're feeling every second of
every day and I'm terrified that what you're feeling will burn me.
Is
this enough for you? Is love just almond oil on wet skin and promises
that die at 11:11? Is 10 o'clock our witching midnight hour? Do all
our dreams turn to pumpkin shells when the clock strikes goodbye?
How
do you love me? Do you wake up at 3 am and wonder why your tongue
tastes like my name? Do you ride the crests and dips of my voice and
trace the texture of my emotions with your fingertips? Do you hear me
arch my back ever so slightly when you say my name? If love is just I
love you, then I've loved and loved and loved my life away.
Sometimes
I can feel you try to love me simply. I fell in love with the peace
around your body. I fell in love with the air around your skin. I am
the hurricane to your peace, the storm centered around your
stillness. Did you think you could love me gently, like the rain? I
will tear through countries to match your calm.
My
love is ugly. It won't lend itself to caress, won't lay purring in
your lap while you pet it. My father told me he loved me best from
afar. My mother tried instead to smother me.
Michael
told me my hair was unmanageable. You complain there's hair
everywhere. I have hair that requires the use of both hands. That
braids into both the hangman's rope and compliance. I have hair that
will never let me trust a man who cannot tame it.
Did
you think you could be my knight in shining armor? I was never the
damsel in distress. I have whiplash in my bones and callouses on my
heels. Do you pride yourself on being a warrior? My darling, I am the
war.
You
will never own me. I say “yessir” and we both laugh because we
know. I will not come for you. I will come to you. Call me, beg me,
coax me gently with your tongue. Lose control because you'll never
possess the woman you've sworn your life to. Hate yourself for being
too weak to force me. Fear that I know your weakness. Love that I
cherish you all the same.
You
will never convince me that I'm your princess. But dear god wouldn't
I hate it if you didn't try.
