Author: Julia Clevenger

Can you hate Yourself

And then forget you do

And then remember again

When you speak out of turn

Feel the tickle at the wrist

Urging you to scratch

Begging you to dig

Away at the sin

To relieve the shame

Of saying too much

Why do you try

To be smart

When you aren’t

To explain when you can’t

To express some ill gotten

ill conceived thought

That no one wants to hear

Anyway

Beaten back

When you whimpered no

Slapped away

When you asked why

Brushed off

When you tried to please

Ignored

When you weren’t alone

I understand its close
I’m not there yet but
its on the fringe
of my awareness
I couldn’t retaliate
I couldn’t seek revenge
But I can feel it
like a forgotten word
on the tip of my tongue
or the fine print
without my readers
I can barely make it out
its there, the rage
just out of reach
but within my grasp
if I needed it

Disfigurement
that word glowed
on the page
as the answer
the feeling the
scars left from
the healing
the result of
the healing
the only way
I can accept
the healing
is to embrace
the disfigurement
it left me with

Hate is a word
Never to be used
Shit and damn and fuck
have their use
but never hate

That we could love in
every imagined context
steadfast in my claim
We never hate

Unknown to me
It was heard by the fates
as a chance
for a lesson
on never and ego and pride

Through abuse, addiction,
resentment and fear
you wouldn’t hate
through it all
Never stood fast

The only choice
would be her or him
to teach the final blow
that even the most pure intention
is no match for Him

She was His final gambit
Feel it now He says
feel it seep in
And curdle your will
To take the never
from you.

That pride of spirit
and gluttony of love
are sins of the naive
to take from you
what is most precious
the form of the love
you insisted on

Still, His curious side-eyed glance?
Was that enough?
will she give in?
From hating nothing easily
to hating it all without shame
or will I have to go back.

The painful tinges
of an unscratched itch
That is my rage welled
soothed momentarily
with the salve of a
child’s smile
only to have it exposed
three-fold
with the reach of
her momma’s hand

Where can I go when
there is no place for me
when I am as out
of place in my own skin
as I am in my own home”
and in my own job
Where do I go now?
Inside to the pretend
where she is still here
and I’m still loved
for me

So hungry
the time will
come
feels like forever
But the time will come
faster if you ignore it
the time will come
slower if you track it
the time will come
like a pinwheel
past and future
slower the further away
faster at the edge of center