Poem
Deadly survival
I could be a murderer.
But I would rather be a survivor.
You stripped me
Like I was a stripper,
But it wasn’t of my clothes,
It was of everything
That could arouse a strong man
Beneath his trousers
And make him curl his toes.
Believe me when I tell you,
I have thought of every way to kill you.
What if I held a gun?
To the lies you told that licked my ears
What if I ran a knife?
Through your heart
That held me captive to fear.
What if I broke your hands?
That fed me tears.
What if I pushed you?
Down a flight of stairs,
At least
It wouldn’t only be one of us
At the bottom of some flight
Fighting
Just to stay alive.
I don’t want to be imprisoned
For being a murderer.
And I think neither do you.
That is why
I will hold my weapons against myself;
I will commit suicide
Under the sun’s hue.
I put the gun to my mind
And shoot the memories
Of us.
I use the knife
To cut away my fear of future lusts.
I push down
everything you said I was
Down a flight of stairs.
I just committed suicide.
I killed everything you made me into
So the me I knew before you,
Can survive.
I could be a murderer
I choose to be a survivor.
Abbigail Mattis