When I asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, he said "a rapper".

I said, "Alright baby, rap for me".

I unlocked his lips and words spilled out of his mouth like lava, burning my ears on the way in.

I became a foolish girl in Pompeii that day and let my rapper wrap his degradation around me, into me.

All the times I considered suicide, I never thought I would settle on immolation.

He really should have said that he wanted to be a butcher because he showed such natural talent when his mind severed my body from my soul, and his eyes expertly sized up this meat, and his hands ripped off my clothes like packing paper.

I don't deny that he had a way with words though.

He made my body a poem that bowed to its creator.

He wanted me, but "on your knees, bitch".

And when he took me off my pedastol, he sid I looked better from a bird's eye view.

I never thought he was that smart, but when he wrote me a new dictionary, it became my Bible.

Such an impatient teacher, he taught me that "love" really meant "obey" and "please" really meant "or else".

He wanted to be my God, but I stopped going to Church for a reason.

I was suffocating

Barely breathing


I was burning

Hardly living

Watching my insides disintegrat4e from a bird's eye view

And that's when I realized he was wrong.

The flames don't look so beautiful when you smell your soul burning.

But then at least you know you have a soul and that's gotta count for something

And that something's gotta be worth saving so you might as well try.

Maybe God can save you but a lot of times he won't so you've gotta save yourself.

Even if you don't believe in God, I can tell you what the devil looks like.

Since my prayers got wait-listed, I had to answer them myself and learn to fight fires with phone calls.

I made my own Bible with just one word that he could never understand and I memorized the definition.

One day I told him to respect me.

He said he respected "dat ass".

I gave him an even better look when I turned and walked away.


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