Friday 2 August 2013

I'm not sure what to call this yet, probably 'I Kept My Last Name'

I kept my last name
And told you that
I think
There are some parts of a person
That should be kept,
And not be thrown away.

Your family didn't understand
That I refused
To simply be bent and worn
Like the ring on this 'ring finger'
Of my left hand.

But the truth is I'm already worn
By so many people I no longer know
Like a hoody left behind after a one-night-stand.

As hard as I've tried
To keep myself contained
In each escape
I've spilled over
And given parts of me away.
And I resent
That someone somewhere
Has my virginity screwed up
In a pile of dirty washing on his floor.
And someone somewhere
Has my favourite place by the river
Pushed back amongst the rubbish in his chest of drawers.
And someone somewhere
Wears my favourite song so smugly
Every time
I see his fucking face
Contort that fucking grin that says
"I know you"
In a way
I can't displace.

So when you asked to take my name
I told you no
As it would only be
Another part of me I can't reclaim.


I've learned to hold on tight
To who I am
Because so much of her
Is in places I can't reach
Or doors I can no longer open.