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Do you know



Do you know that I think of you every day?
Not the way you’d hope.
My mind contorts reality as you seep into every waking moment,

                                             every cell screams to be released from the prison I call my body.

Do you know I don’t sleep? 
When my head hits the pillow, I feel you beside me.
I feel your heavy navy-blue comforter pressing on my body.
Your hands,
                                    they strangle like vines.
Do you know I can’t practice yoga?
In my most vulnerable positions, I feel you forcing my legs apart.
I hear you telling me to be good. To be quiet. 
I just have to survive.
Do you know I hate myself?
Perhaps more than I hate you.
You were sick, 
                                                                        but I was weak.


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