Do not tell me to smile;
My mouth is not yours to control,
My face is not yours to change,
My mood is not yours to own.
I do not belong to you and none
Of me is yours to take.
Neither do I need you,
Nor want you,
Nor know you.
I have enough friends and
I have had enough of you,
Your words in my ear,
Your fingers on my arm.
I am a person, not a puppet,
You are so, so wrong to think
That I owe you anything.
Never tell me it is lighthearted
When you get excited by the fear in my eyes.
If you have a daughter
I hope she never feels the same fear.
I can make you sweat, Marianna
I can make you tremble.
I can make you shout, Marianna
I can make you gasp.
I will make you hot, Marianna
I will make you focus.
I will catch you now, Marianna
I will make you live.
Call him out of control
When you cannot control him
Tell him you are only thinking of his future
When the future you imagine for him is not his own
Repeat your mantra that you want the best for him
Without considering that it is subjective what that is.
Wonder why he turns away from you,
The mould that you push on him warping.
Every day and with every calculating word you stole part of me from me,
and you bore down on my mind until I came to fear my own thoughts.
Yet they still invaded my brain like dogged soldiers, as I waged a war against myself, fighting battle after battle that I could never win.
Shell-shocked, I felt nothing as you pushed me against the headboard, against the walls.
Always against what I wanted, but it was unclear what I did want.
As if I were rotting, I softened until you could reshape me, bending and twisting me into the image you had of the perfect girlfriend, presented and promised to you in glossy magazine pages.
It was after you went to prison for the final time that I realised how much you’d taken from me; I couldn’t get up by myself any more, even with the curtains open wide and the baby crying from his room.