When the Boy Meets Gasoline

to the girls who deserve better,

cute boy smiles at you
cute boy touches your hand
just a brush
just one faint touch
but that's all it takes
he's already
taken you as his prisoner
held you captive
who knew it would
turn into such a literal meaning

cute boy laughs at your jokes
cute boys gazes into your eyes
cute boys stops gazing into your eyes
cut boy looks down
right at your chest
you want to be offended
but he's a cute boy right
and it's just a body part

cute boy becomes more than cute boy
cute boy becomes boyfriend
cute boy becomes the person you
lose your virginity to
he tells you
he took your innocence
and made you less pure

boyfriend is no longer cute
boyfriend is beautiful
boyfriend is your world
who knew your world could make you
feel so small

boyfriend says your stomach
has a little too much fat
you ask him why he can love the fat on your chest
but not on your stomach
he says it's not sexy
when did we let boys determine what
was sexy about our own bodies
when did we let them determine
what we defined as beautiful

but you believe him
you let him take you farther into your grasp
you run more
eat less
boyfriend doesn't seem to notice
when has he ever noticed
he's taken more than
just your innocence now
he's taken your light too
you wondered why he
found you less innocent
after that first time
and now
looking back
you see the marks his own hands leave
and know that he was right
he took everything

boyfriend wants to do more with you
you though do more meant
watch movies together
go hiking
cook dinner
read poetry
you thought do more
meant be more in love
he meant do more
as in be more possessive
and controlling
he meant do more
as in make you more of his prisoner
as if his voice
and eyes
and hair alone
has not already made you stay

he puts you on his bed
you didn't no do more
meant being handcuffed
or being choked
his hands wrap around your neck
he's enjoying it
“and you should too”
but you can't
tears fall from your eyes
you ignore them
crying is just part of being a girl
you've held it in all your life
you can't stop now

you wonder what it would be like
to go boating with him
to have a snowball fight with him
to read a book to him
you will never know
because he's not like that
was never like that
but you were to lost in his games
to notice the string he had tied
around your hands
too busy starting into his eyes as he wrapped the noose around your neck

you wonder about all the good things
he could do with his hands
like write a book
or carry a child
or hold your hand
what if he used his two hands
to protect you
and keep you safe
instead of using them
to claim dominance
and power
using what he believes is strength
over you to trap the air inside your lungs
proving that you are below him
what if his two hands
didn't leave bruises on your neck
that bloom into purple and blue and black
and seem to
define your relationship
but instead left sweat stains
on each others hands from holding each other foreveras you walked and talked about all of life's mysteries

what if his two hands did good things and created beautiful things instead

what if you hadn't fallen for his smile
or his laugh
or his eyes
or hair
maybe you wouldn't be a prisoner
any longer
in your own life
maybe you wouldn't let
someone else
decide how you
chose to grow
you roll out from under him
take his hand in yours





because this time
you're choosing yourself

someone who cares

This poem is about: 
Our world


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