Chest pains.

Am I a bad person?

I didn't know it was trauma
until this year, didn't know
I was allowed to name it
even though you never
bruised me

You follow me almost
everywhere

There are days where I
am not reminded of the past,
and if I am, it's in dull colors

but other days,
the brilliance upsets my
brainwaves

I fall to the floor,
close to being
knocked unconscious

and I wonder
if I hit my head on
the marble counter,
but the only sharp edges
are those around my
lungs

because I can't possibly
dictate the horror of
these thoughts

I wish you'd drop

drop dead

and now you're in the
hospital

isn't that what I
wanted?

Why do I feel nothing
then?

There is no womb
where forgiveness
can rest
when you made my
heart barren
at the age of

(I don't even know)

Perhaps I am a bad person,

perhaps I am okay with that