.

I say I was really young,

he looks at me with glossy eyes

and an empty smile and waits for me to continue

I tell him I don’t know what I did wrong

I say maybe things would be different

if that hadn’t happened

Maybe I would be different

Maybe I wouldn’t feel so sad all the time

Maybe I wouldn’t feel haunted

by ghosts past of all the men I’ve loved ever since

Maybe I would know how to let go

I tell him about the times he should’ve held my hand

but let go instead

About the afternoons I spent crying

because how could I be enough if he didn’t want me?

i tell him it’s hard not to love an absent man

when i’ve been taught to love him

and that’s all he’s ever been

I tell him about the times I wanted to scream at people

I wanted to say please let me hurt

But how I instead trained myself to go quiet

To remain silent

To keep that pain inside of me, hidden,

like a treasure or a really annoying mosquito bite

I don’t tell him about the moments I spent

scratching my skin till it bled looking for what

itched so I could have some relief

I don’t tell him and he disappears.

I didn’t tell him how it hasn’t stopped itching

how I still hurt

every time another man breaks my heart

and it starts all over again.

What I tell my father about the first time a man broke my heart - {renata ferretti}