prologue (what I wouldn’t say in a poem)

You told me 

You liked the way my hands felt 

On your fingertips when my knuckles were

Scabbed over

Bruised and maroon 

You liked 

The black lipstick and eyeliner

The tarnished rings around my hands

You liked 

Holding me in public

Being seen with me 

You liked 

The cut of my jaw 

The curves of my body

You liked 

How whenever I was anxious I’d comfort and hold you

I’d play with your hair

You liked 

Being able to come with me on adventures

It never occurred to you to also have some alone

You liked 

When I didn’t bring things up for a second time because 

I

don’t

see

why

you

can’t

get

past

this

You liked 

Telling me that you couldn’t objectify me 

Even when I was sexualized

You liked 

Me when I was palatable 

And you liked my tears if you could be my savior

You liked 

Me but couldn’t answer when I asked

If I was being used as a rebound

You liked 

Saying you took my first kiss

If you have to say you took something it was never fucking yours

You liked 

Lipstick stains on toilet paper 

Left face up in the trash can

It sits here 

Taunting me like in the argument when you threatened

To say you love me

To win