Abandonment

It hit me through my body,
violent vibrations with no ventilation.
It kept pulsing like fresh blood
from the wound, the womb.

My mother left me
because she had to work,
because of her own fears.
I knew she wanted to hold me,
and hear my cry for her breast,
for her.

My father left me too,
the day he hit me,
because he couldn't recognize
the girl he left behind.

So, he went to my little sister
(whom I am jealous of),
who resents me
for being the person
everyone loves but
can't have.

I abandoned them all
because it hurt too much to feel
their love, distant memory of a love,
lost in transit, in translation, in transition,
in America.

I abandoned the one I loved
before he could leave me. I,
a runaway, got good at hiding, yet
I kept searching for a distant
ideal, love in the form of a man.

Men, mirages, barrages of men,
who thought pulling a girl's hair
was fun, taking her freedom,
raping, molesting, violating, whistling, smothering,
silencing, playing, and lying to a girl was
okay, was everything a "man" does
in today's society.

But even after such violence,
I decided to comeback stronger
to face those men, however painful,
to face my family however painful,
to face my love, and
to face love in general...

(because I'm tired of running away
from being abandoned).