A Beautiful Prison For Them

This is where
all of the
horrible things
live.

I lifted it
from my drawer
and exhaled,

“oh no,”

accidentally
letting my animal
out of it’s cage.

I forgot
where
My memories
had moved to.

I changed
their address

and lost their
coordinates.

it was not
a part of me
anymore

because
[because]

it had already
served
It’s purpose.

I was looking for
something else in
my dresser drawers

but, there
it Was
still
very much
real.

my ex boyfriend
bought me
this notebook
as a present

when we were
on our first
[and only]
trip together.

his love was
purposeful
and pure

in a list
of mine
that weren’t.

if i was
to believe
in fate,

he would be
a catalyst
incarnate.

some may argue,

“it’s a shame
to scribble
experiences of
sexual assault
and harassment
on such
beautiful pages.”

But isn’t it
always a shame,

however you
dress them,

and wherever
They lie?

Uniform