Still Okay

Your name,
That's all it was -
flashing and vibrating
in my sweating palm
as I dried my hair,

Your name,
The thing I currently hate the most
next to the sight of your face,
& yet, there it was, just
blinking its red eye up at me,

I think I heard the slightest
crackling in the fissure you
left so blatantly smudged
upon my soul,
It was finally starting
to turn mottled magenta,
the shade of a freshly healing scar,
& you - your fucking name -
sunk the goddamn razor between its
lines and re-opened it up,
You bastard, son-of-a-bitch...

I clicked ignore,
of course,
what could I say to you
that would make me feel free?
"Hey you abusive asshole, how's life
treating ya?"
No - nothing would suffice,
No crumpled list of words
gasping for breath in my
white-knuckled fist could ever
properly describe how I feel,
Not ever...

I would love for someone
larger or stronger than you
to hoist your small frame up
into the air and then impale your face
upon their cock,

...the way you did to me...

I would love for you to feel
the pain, the shame, the fear, the
hurt, the shock, the illicit emotions
that society hushes women about when
they've been raped,

I wish you could feel it...

I wish you could feel what I feel every single
goddamn day of my life...

You tossed your G's at me,
But you are so fucking, goddamn poor
that all you have is money...
Money...and nothing else...

At least I am still loveable to
some humans, even if I am just a tad bit
broken,

I'm still okay...