you didn’t think of the rough edges | a poem in disguise

I was a girl

and you took something from me

that belonged to a woman

*

I looked at myself in the mirror

and learned how to see

what you wanted me to become

*

I didn’t sound like myself

in your vicinity

and I thought that my acts of self-betrayal

were a confirmation of who I was

*

and I looked at photographs of myself

and thought

is there even one picture in existence

that actually reveals who I am

*

photographs hid

photographs carved

photographs pretended

photographs put together

the dead unseen

*

I wonder whether photography

can bring to the surface what you were thinking

*

you stared at me

and I asked myself

who am I

*

when you spoke

I made myself

small

I made myself disappear

within my body

still standing

halfway vacant

one touch and I’d fall apart

*

you loved the power that leaked out of my body

you gorged on it

and forgot that it was foreign matter

*

who is this man whose absence is as terrifying as his presence

*

you observed me

and always wanted me to be something else

always the opposite of what I was

always different

but you were never precise

you never knew what you were talking about

I would never become a person

I’d always remain a slow-hardening pecked at unfinished clump of clay

and somehow

in a way

you wouldn’t dare to come near me

with your hands

photograph © Laura Gentile 2021 | Instagram: @melpomenepaintings

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s