Breathe

I forgot how to breathe...
And my heart is stuck on this repeated morbid melody
I try to use my eyelids like erasers to erase the image of you
From my otherwise picture perfect view
But somehow,
You’re seared on the inside of them
And now my canvas is tarnished
Smudged with your slovenly fingerprints
I constantly feel dirty
Like you painted me with oil
Maybe that’s way your hands tend to slip over every inch of me
Your “I love you’s” vice grip my lungs shut
I forgot how to breathe
As you lean over me
Sneaking into my room
as silently as the cancer that took mommy’s breasts away from you
your skin is saturated with the sweet perfumed of her body
the scent of her hips is stained on your lips
mixes with your favorite elixirs as you trace my ears with your tongue
I don’t want to remember how to breathe
I wonder…
How could you touch me like mommy
Be able to look at my hips and stand erect
How can you lay seed in your seed
Your semen
lines my hymen
that you have left hanging like the tattered rags
that hang off the children in Bag-
dad how could you do this to me
you use to be my knight in shinning armor
how could you fuck your own daughter
did I look too much like my mother
blossomed into a flower that too much resembled
the one whose petals have been damaged and faded
you’ve invaded my soul
and every time you kiss me my heart goes…
cold…
like the poison that you injected into me was laced with ice
I pray daily
Hoping that the what grows inside me
won’t come out looking to much like
the Demon that helped me produce this blessing
or is it a curse?
Birthing my brother
Mothering my sibling
dreading the day that I have to explain to my child
that their daddy,
and granddaddy,
hold one in the same name
predator
pedophile
molester
monster
I wish
I never
knew how to breathe
in the first place.
Wish that I was never conceived
to receive
this being
that dwells within me.
Why is this happening?
It’s become so routine…
I know exactly how many rhythmetic thrusts
come before you bust.
How many come before you slap me
for not looking like I enjoy it.
How many come before you tell me
that this is my fault
and I…
deserve it.
I’ve stopped screaming…
Stopped hoping mommy was listening
cause now I know
that she knows.
Cause she never looks at me…
directly.
She speaks to me through silence
quick glances that dance around my eyes.
I can tell that she cries.
Her eyelashes whisper I’m sorry
every time she blinks.
And it seems like she’s forgotten how to breathe,
or maybe she doesn’t want to either.
Our house is suffocating
I can’t take the tears that roll off
my souls window pains
I can’t stand the rain.
I feel like I’m drowning…
but maybe that’s not a bad thing.
At least then,
I won’t ever
have to remember
how
to
breathe...