Black | poetry for the damned

dress

Long before the world met my father's son and my mother's little boy, there was her.

A young woman, a young man, living a lie.

She would go out to charity galas and formal events, showcased to the world. She was shown off in a fancy dress, thrown from boy to boy in hopes something would click.

And finally, something did click.

She found him.

He was kind, funny, and wanted nothing to do with this world that his parents had thrown him into as well.

He listened to loud music and smoked cigarettes.

He drank, he did drugs, he played videogames.

He was everything her parents did not want for her. Her parents did not want them to be together.

They were the modern day Romeo and Juliet.

They wanted to run away together and drive across the country with no destination in mind. They wanted to live, laugh, and love.

He fell quick, quicker than she thought possible.

But she did not fall. She never fell in love, she liked him, yes, she thought he was cute, smelled good, and could make her laugh, but that is not love.

She just wanted escape.

So, one night, they were at some party, dragged there by their parents.

Her sleek black dress brushed across the floor, her golden hair curled and pulled in different directions, she knew what he wanted the minute he saw her,

and she knew she did not want that.

She wanted to run, she wanted to cause a scene when he pulled her down the street to his black car. But she did not.

I wish I made her yell and scream, I wish I could've warned her of what was going to happen.

I wish I could go back in time and save her. I wish I could keep her alive.

But I can't.

I cannot stop him from unzipping her black dress, I cannot stop him from taking off her undergarments. I cannot stop him from taking off his clothes.

I wish I could've stopped her from ever saying hello. But I cannot.

She died that night. She died and we cannot get her back. She died, but I was born.

My mother and father lost their daughter that night.

But they met me.

They met their son four days later. Crying and telling them what happened that night. Crying and telling them that he wanted no part of their society anymore. Crying and telling them that they had a son and not a daughter.

Crying and hoping that they would still love me and hoping I was still their child.

Thankfully I was met with love.

Thankfully they never made me see him, see you, again.

They wanted me to take you to court. But I didn't want to, I couldn't relive that night ever again.

Writing this is taking me back to the start. The start of all my pain. Before I decided I would get my life together, live how I wanted, be myself.

I knew the minute you saw me in that dress my life would change.

I didn't think it would change this much though.