Tell Me

Tell me, have you ever felt so betrayed 

That you never learnt to trust again?

Tell me, have you ever felt so disgusted by your own reflection 

That you wished to never face a confrontation?

Tell me, have you ever felt so poisoned 

That you were afraid to ruin anything you held?

Tell me, have you ever felt so forgotten 

that you were convinced your presence made no real difference?

Tell me have you ever felt so replaceable 

That you no more bother to sit at the table?

Tell me, have you ever felt so used to being abused 

that you don’t even flinch on impulse to untoward touches?

Tell me have you ever felt so helpless    

That you condemned consent as a weapon reserved for the privileged

Tell me, have you ever felt so broken 

that you’ve lost count of the pieces that were stolen?

Tell me, have you ever felt so exhausted

That you wished that you would not need to wake up again?

Tell me, have you ever felt so hurt 

That you can say you’re used to it?

Tell me, have you ever felt so afraid 

That you felt that there were not enough walls to keep you safe?

Have you ever felt so numb

That you all you wanted, was a way to make it all stop?

Tell me, have you ever felt so defeated 

that you knighted Death as your savior?

So don’t tell me to fix myself 

As if the thought never occurred to me. 

Don’t remind me of all the times that I didn’t get rescued 

As I if I enjoy bleeding on those who didn’t cut me. 

Don’t tell me that I’m making oceans out of puddles

If you won’t throw me a rope from your boat, don’t tie me to another anchor. 

But most of all don’t pretend to care, you’re not that good an actor. 

For I’ll pretend to believe you and pull you into the shallow 

And if you somehow don’t drown, then maybe I’ll think about hearing you out.