Past Lives

We laugh, and go quiet.

I want to tell you all of the things I've been holding back.

Like how he hurt me

and enjoyed it.

He told me it was normal, the things he did to me.

It's not,

and when I finally realized it,

it had gone too far for it not to affect me.

So now every time you lean in close,

I see him.

I don't want to,

and I adjust-tell myself you're not him.

But it hurts that he's the first thing that comes to mind

when you're my everything.

And I want to tell you

about the friend that I lost.

Clearly, you already know I lost someone.

But I never told you the details-

the reasons I feel guilty,

the circumstances.

The one who messed with me-

trying to make the trauma I experienced

nothing but a sick joke.

And I want to tell you how that same guy-

the one who joked in the time of my deepest pain-

told me he wanted me to be his forever.

His little pet of a housewife-

no working, no supporting myself-

just making babies and waiting on him.

As if I'd ever settle for that life.

And most of all,

I want to tell you about the boy who had my heart

for seven months.

The one who got me to say I love you

less than two months in.

The only one I've ever claimed to feel that deeply about.

I want to tell you all this and more,

but I stay silent.

And I wait for you to say something,

as I fall deeper into your big brown eyes.

Watching all my past lives flash before my own.