Sometimes I wake up in the morning and my chest does this little throbbing thing.
I think it’s called heartache.
I know physical pain, but this kind of body pain is different.
It’s usually after I have a nightmare. You are always in them lately.
It’s not like I’m falling into a black hole or being chased by zombies.
You are just there, and in each one you hurt me in a new way.
The plotline always changes.
I suppose it’s because you never told me the truth about yours.
So, I’m left here wondering.
Not about what you think of me, you made that pretty clear;
that I tried too hard to impress you, that I seem too “young,” that I am not an independent person.
Most days, I can push aside your ignorant comments.
But when you show up in my sleep, I wake up in a panic,
because you have followed me to the one place I thought I could escape you.
I think I’m still fighting for something that never existed with the hope that I can create it;
with the hope that you will transform your mind to match the beauty of your body;
with the hope that you will no longer see me as a “child.”