Hey Nique

Learning to reclaim my heartbeat

From the feeling of his hunger.

From being a scratched pillowcase, words whispered to in the dark,

stained with stuttered nouns

And translucent adjectives:

I was unedited from the singular he made me to be.

Sweltering red lines

zigzag across my back

Thighs, neck. Marked

and now

There are too many grammatical errors.

I was resigned to never being rectified.

Section by section I

Jigsawed

Pieces of me until I could sew together a tapestry threaded

With concrete descriptors of my own

Volition.

Cocooned in my own insecurities

It was a sorrowful smile snaking its way across my face.

Warmed by my own angry joy,

I became me.

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