Consent
what does consent mean
if you aren’t saying yes for yourself
if every incision, stitch, vial of blood
is done because i am too scared to say no
if my refusal is trapped behind my teeth and
consent is given by others using my tongue
can i call this abuse
i am laying here naked
letting the pain to consume me
listening to their machines beeping in surround sound
i wonder if the nurse that held me down
saw the word consent in my eyes
my body is passed around
from doctor to doctor with
an idea, a diagnosis, a solution
playing god in their lab coats and scrubs
children that never stopped the game of pretend
– this does not feel like consent to me
Good Bones
she has worn this skin all her life
its familiarity like a sunday dinner
and long nights spent laughing
with souls so tangled with her own
while sipping hot cocoa with her brother
her body was a fortress
with a foundation built by her father
and finished by her mother
she was made of brick and mortar
with windows that allowed the sun
to kiss her every shadow
she grew up holding hands with safety
so, she was unafraid
when the wolf appeared
huffing and puffing
she laughed and danced
and rang her bells when he didn’t succeed
but the wolf did not like this
and soon the wolf returned
huffing and puffing
and she did not know fear
until her windows shattered
and the brick crumbled
as the wolf smiled at her ruins
at his success
she ran from the familiarity of her own skin
and traded places with a stranger
now she spends her time
looking over her shoulder
fearing the wolf’s return
for the wolf will want more
than the taste of her fear on his tongue
if she is found
she runs and runs and
craves the sense of security
she left behind in the carcass of her past
she feels like nothing more
than a cardboard home
floating in the middle of the sea
but while she is lost, she still knows
she would sooner drown, than
let the wolf find her again
– good bones
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