one bullet left
for the man who turned cops and robbers to rapists sent free-
who robbed her of her childhood years,
changed a child’s giggles to blood stained tears.
trust issues greater than a swig of whiskey, a phone password, and a diagnosis
from some paid off shrink to “fix her” can fix.
as if it’s her fault,
they let this man into their family,
trusted him alone in her chambers.
now the chamber’s empty,
and the blood’s staining the confession
he mailed to her house, signed:
the best he ever had.
sealed in an envelope, signed:
30/30, adulthood, allow, April, cause and effect, connection, curse, damage, drank, freedom, fuck, give, heartache, impact, let go, love, national poetry month, pain, past, poetry, relationship, sorrow, touch, youth
by: Allison Ryder
by 17, i had fought against the world-
destiny stood against me
as my heart bled out for four years,
for someone who i let stab it, leave, and stab it again.
for nine years and every year after,
i let them stay, longer than they should’ve
so my heart could never mend.
so i drank more than i ate,
and i fucked someone else to break the connection,
and i cursed the world for breaking me
when i gave all i had and all i am.
and i sped out the pain and sorrows,
and paid my way to freedom.
by 27, i broke skin to feel alive,
and now, i can’t help but look back
and see how it all ruined me.
never failed to impact the people who touched me,
but that’s not enough anymore.
handed Satan their names-
i don’t entertain deals with the devil.
i’m setting myself free.
you can’t have me.
minds were not developed to be closed. the imagination is not meant to be limited. the heart is not meant to be tamed. youth was not meant to be forgotten. faith is not meant to be weighed. bodies were not meant to be caged in. broken boundaries are experience, they’re a sign of living.