Twisted Knife - J. Yumi Poetry

Twisted knife

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I’m not insecure,

But I’m also not confident.

For a while, back some years ago,

I told myself over and over again

That I am the best of the best,

The cream of the crop,

The top-notch girl.

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And for a while I believed it.

I believed it like I believed the people

Who said they cared about me

With their fingers crossed

Behind their backs while I

Had a knife buried in mine.

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Who stuck it there,

I cannot exactly remember.

I know it has been twisted

By different people, but the original

Assaulter is lost in my mind.

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Tucked away like my childhood memories

And reoccurring nightmares

From when they first left me

Lying in the dirt at the end of

Washington Avenue.

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I could ignore their insults

For one amazing year, and it ended

As suddenly as it began.

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I could no longer convince myself

That I was the it-girl everyone wanted,

The one desirable prom-queen type of girl,

The most beautiful thing anyone had laid their eyes on.

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All it took was one more twist of the knife

To end all of the rose-colored ignorance and bliss.

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