Flight simulator

He told me I tricked him

That I couldn’t be trusted.

And so this justified

all that he did.

And I accepted

his piecemeal, angry sort of affection

wherever I could catch it.

I chased it.

I devoured it.

How low

and insignificant

I must have been

how desperate to be wanted

to endure hatred

and call it love.

I let him hide me.

In a moment

he would hold me.

Tell me

He’d take me away

from this

We would be new, together

Later.

But now

He hears a sound

someone entering the room

And with the same hand that held mine

a minute before

He pushes me to the floor

blankets landing on top of me

Don’t move.

Hold your breath.

Or he compresses me under the sheets

His body landing heavily on top of my frame

I can’t breathe.

My chest shudders.

He shifts his weight

to make sure I can’t be seen

No one must know.

And

I

am

suffocating

In

every

way.

He tells them it’s nothing

It is all in my head.

I fucked him over

He would never want me again.

I am not to be trusted.

I had a boyfriend when we met.

I didn’t cheat

but I didn’t leave him

When I noticed a feeling

growing.

And now

Single

Or whatever the fuck you call this

I’m at his mercy

Taking whatever scraps he’ll give me.

For I am not to be trusted.

Sometimes he brings other girls home.

I hear them downstairs.

His door closes.

They laugh

And fuck

Loudly.

And again

I am to stay silent.

And it’s my fault,

I know.

I am not

to be

trusted.

We are home

alone.

And when he brings his lips to mine

He says he can’t help himself.

It seems

that this is my fault too.

And then we are upstairs

Bodies entwined

and in a moment

I am special

Loved.

And then

it is over.

He runs to the shower.

He can’t wait

to wash away the shame that I bring.

I lie naked, dirty

sad

And alone

but I am sure that this

is what they call love.

He plays his games

Well, he plays flight simulator.

Hours he commits to flying his imaginary planes

Thousands of miles.

But he couldn’t find a moment

to pretend I was worthwhile.

And when I find a way out

He comes at me with all the hatred he can muster

As if he hasn’t already given it his all.

As if I haven’t been scraping around in the remnants of apathetic affection

since he first laid eyes on me.

He raises a fist

shoves me against the kitchen counter.

He pauses

Tells me

his friends will see to me later.

I guess he still can’t bear the thought of touching me.

His friends will see to me later:

And yet

They mustn’t know about us

He said.

If they did

they would think he was weak

for letting me in.

I can’t be trusted.

Later,

I fly at his door with a hammer

Flakes of MDF float softly to the floor.

This time

I won’t stay silent

I won’t be hidden

I won’t take any more.

And now I am the abuser?

He says I’m a psycho

Hammer in hand,

Sawdust in the air.

For I am not to be trusted

I am not to be loved,

I am only to be scared.