“Why Are You Always Writing About Boys?” By Lydia Wang

“Why Are You Always Writing About Boys?”

They ask why you are always writing about the men
and you tell them that you aren’t. You are writing
about the lessons, the bruises, the rubbing alcohol, the hurt.
About what people take, what people leave behind,
the photographs. The flowers. You are writing about a blue dress
that cost too much money and now shirks in your closet.
You are writing about the words, the lies, the promises,
the threats, the threatening, the choking. How your ribcage cracked
when the first boy who loved you said you weighed too much.
You are writing about the dreams, the nightmares. About loving
like gravel. About shaving your legs and dressing your lips
because you want to be noticed. You are writing about the fear.
You are writing about the color of blood, his blood, your blood.
You are writing about the kisses that were too metallic.
The kisses that left your mouth feeling empty. The liquor,
how it persuaded you to leave your hands in someone else’s home.
You are writing about how sticky your shirt felt against your chest
as he pulled it off and the sand, you are writing about the sand,
how you could taste it on his arms. You are writing about the apologies.
About giving your phone number to strangers just for the thrill
of a message from an unknown number. You are writing about
reconstructing your broken bones. You are writing about
licking salt. Crying Corona tears. Learning that
you are an easy thing to touch
and a hard thing to love.

They ask why I am always writing about the men
and I tell them that I’m not. I am writing
about the burning, how I screamed.
How I loved.
How I loved.
How I loved.
How I walked away from the battleground.
How I survived.

By Lydia Wang

Biography:

Lydia Wang is a writer, feminist, and caffeine enthusiast. Originally from Boston, she now lives in New York, where she studies creative writing and topics in social and cultural analysis at NYU. In her free time, she likes to spend too much money at the bookstore, rant about feminism, and fall in love with strangers on public transportation. Visit her online at poemsbylydia.tumblr.com.

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