i have no luck
in anything really.
friendships come and go
like a ship bobbing across the surface of shallow water
to get to the other islands
with loot that it took from the previous
and left it empty.
my first love was too early,
my second love was a fraud,
and my third has yet to be reached,
because i have spent years trying to build a wall
around my heart,
just to tear it down
and give the bricks to someone else.
boys strip me with their eyes;
girls cut me open for experimenting.
being seen for nothing but
a source of fulfillment
for a disgusting desire.
in a house that isn't really home.
growing up with banging doors and covered ears,
i have recognized the person coming into my room
just by how they open the door.
passion does not exist
yet it is preached
to manipulate me into choosing practicality.
i lay in my bed
praying to a god that i don't believe in
and begging that it would get better.
they say that god would never give me
a battle i could not handle,
but i have fought this batttle for centuries
and it still has not ended.
saturdays are for family,
sundays are for church,
and mondays are for restarting a cycle of abuse
that does not seek improvement.
in a world where i am judged
for just about anything.
my status,
my appearance,
who i affiliate with,
how i present myself on social media.
as an ethnic woman
whose mouth is held shut
by the hands of a horrid patriarchy.
how i wish everything was different,
and that i would not have to reread my own book
to every person i encounter
just to be understood.
