Sometimes I think about killing myself. Partly because of what you have done to me.
"I'm too smart for that,” I tell myself,
As if intellect is supposed to stop pain.
It doesn’t.
As if I can study your hands off my body.
Memorize enough flashcards to drown out the screams.
“Maybe if I just get an A, no one will notice the bruises.”
As if mental capacity erases the physical.
You made my soul stop fitting in my body.
I am no longer me, I am just a person in a vessel, who is too smart to try and die in order to get a new one because I know it will never work and then you. will. win.
