You'll Never See Me Coming (Look What They Made of Me)

they called me normal. i told
them things, but not all. if i said
everything, it would be deadly.
(not for me. i'm invincible.)

i told them there were people
who made my head spin and
my stomach churn in a way
that was awful and beautiful.
young love, they said, and i
heard them call me a silly girl
while i showered off the blood.

i tried to explain the anger, how
sometimes i would want to yell,
hurt people. with words, i would
add quickly. (words and knives
and fists and ropes) but if i just
said words, nobody would worry.
they told me to be positive. so i
called her lovely with my hands
wrapped tight around her throat.

i said i was sad, and sometimes that
i felt nothing at all. they said it came
with growing up. so i cried when i
slit his throat, but when i buried him,
i didn't do a thing. (there was nothing
to feel, then. it was all over and done.)

i spoke of the taste of blood, how it was
soursweet in a million ways and the best
damn thing i've ever had. that was when
the faces changed. horror came up,
and killing them was all i could do. but
i made sure to speak at the funerals,
and i told everyone how much they helped.
how i could be myself. (they smiled and
clapped through tears, and i touched
the wallet i had stolen. it was lovely.)