Clean: An Anthology

Dear Lauren

dear lauren,
i think i know what he did to you.
he paraded you around like a trophy and it fit
you were bright gold with a sun-kissed tan from a florida vacation
until he got to you, ripped the light from your eyes and tore you apart
as if you were but another notch in his belt.
but then again, i shouldn't be talking about you, because this isn't about us
and i try to convince myself that it never was.
this is about him, and his madcap sisterhood of broken girls

and i can't even begin to imagine what he must have done in four months:
if he managed to shatter me in only a few minutes,
though to be honest i'm not quite sure how long he took to finish with me and
i'm sure you know what it's like when things become a blur.

and lauren, i want to apologize
because you could have been saved so much pain
if only, i had spoken out more, pressed harder.
i tried, honestly i did:
but the men in charge, with their sharply buttoned up shirts
and polyester smiles me their hands were tied
and i wanted to scream, because how dare they compare
burecracy with confinement.

and i replay that moment, constantly because i regret every second of it
every time i said it was no big deal and
every time i said it was okay and really,
i know have no right to be angry because i got myself there anyways.
but if i had told the truth about his strange violence,
his excellence at charming everyone else but me
and his smile that said he wanted every inch of my body and soul
whether or not i agreed
maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have hurt you.

so dear lauren
i am sorry and when you're in those intermediate stages,
when you don't want to blame yourself but you're not quite ready to pin it on him,
i am more than happy
to take the fall.

A/N: Some late night poetry. I want comments/feedback- do you like it when I get all rambling and personal like this? This poem turned out...different, and I'd love to know what you guys think. Merci!