Not Just A Place To Put It

I want to ask you
every time we talk,
Why you sell yourself short?

Why do you always seem to find a way
to lessen your wants and needs
or imply what you want is not important?

Why do you see yourself
as an object for men to use?

Ignoring your needs for theirs
because your needs are not important,
right?

Why do you see yourself as
just a place to put it?

It breaks my heart
each and every time we talk.

The conversation takes
that wicked turn.

I feel it coming every time
and know you can’t help it, babe.

The scars cut deep on your
arms and thighs
and etch your very soul.

You even discount me at times.
Discount what we had.

Knowing that it’s
self-preservation does
not lessen the pain we
share as you make us
something we were not.

I want to ask,
Why do you allow these thoughts
to master you?
Why can’t you learn to master them?

But I know the answer
before the words ever escape my lips.

It’s him.

That evil piece of shit
and all the vile things he did
to the innocent
beautiful angel you once were (and are).

Please try to find that perfect
angel inside of yourself.

She is still inside someplace.

Fight to give her a voice
and her rightful place in
the heaven of your chosing.

Allow the angel she once
was a chance to spread
her wings and fly.
High above the pain and sorrow.

Smiling with tears of
pure joy raining down
upon the earth.

Giving peace
to others who have suffered
at the hands of evil.

Regardless of what that
depraved and baleful
excuse of a man did,
he does not define you.

I know what I’m asking is
difficult.
Easier said than done.

I realize there is comfort
in a known hell
and there is fear in an unknown heaven.

But please try.

Not for me.

For yourself my dear sweet angel.

YOU are worth it.
You are worth more than you know.
You are
Not Just A Place To Put It.