When I told you I liked to be hurt
I meant consensually.
I did not say
\"break my spirits\"
I did not say
\"sleep with those girls\"
Maybe you misheard me.
Maybe I wasn\'t clear with my intentions.
I wanted you to be a safe space.
Instead, you became a rotting pothole
of self doubt
and insecurity.
Maybe if I look prettier
in the mirror we\'re both staring into
my words will then be enunciated.
Maybe my message will come through.
But you are still simply staring at a body,
while I am staring at you.