weconsent

this is not a poem. i don’t mess with metaphor

this is me finding my voice and losing pieces

if i could scream, i would

but my throat is tired

and my heart is tired, too

 

i think i’m untouchable

i didn’t finish aestheticizing this

i like things unfinished, and i am always in process

 

i’m making myself unbroken

by mending pieces

i never wanted

 

you took pieces

they were never mine in the first place, they were yours all along

 

but i don’t need pieces, because they’re

unfinished, in process

like me

 

some pieces say

you can take my power, but never my essence:

 

because what i have

can never touch