No One Wants to See Themselves That Way

That night, 

The moon was round

And full 

And enough.

I was with my then-boyfriend

And we weren’t in love.

We were on the playground

Of his childhood elementary school

And the playground was bordered by woods

Carved by dirt bike trails.

I’d just finished devouring 

The life story of

America’s favorite female serial killer

And the woods that bordered the playground

Made me think of Aileen and those boys

And what she’d let them do to her

And how I wished I was a girl

Who could go into the woods

With boys

And want

And be wanted 

And emerge alone,

Content with my loneliness.

But I had a boy, singular,

And I was nineteen,

Barely a girl anymore,

And I didn’t want my boyfriend

To want me.

We were on the swings

With the black Kevlar rubber seats 

That squash you 

And sag beneath you,

And he was a body, 

A being,

And I wouldn’t let him kiss me.

He grabbed for my hand,

To hold it in his,

To feel a girlfriend,

And I wrenched it away,

I wouldn’t give it to him

But I wouldn’t give him up either.

When he asked me

What was wrong now

And every moment before now,

I didn’t answer him.

I was too busy thinking about

How there are monsters

Whose eyes you can hold

And then there are monsters

With faces so like magnifying mirrors,

You do yourself a favor

And you look the other way.