I’m Late and My Ribs Hurt

poem autumn 24

I’m late because my hair wouldn’t plait,

I’m late cos my body makes me want to cry,

I’m late because my bra is digging into my ribs,

I’m late cos my top bulges out at the chest,

Binder or bra this shit feels the same,

He won’t want me, she won’t either

I’m late cos my bus changed it destination ,

I didn’t care I rode anyway,

I’m late cos I can’t open my mouth and speak,

I’m late cos I let him do it,

I felt nothing and said even less

I’m late and my ribs hurt,

I’m late and I’m ripping my hair out,

I’m late and I’m scrunched up under my desk with the boxes and the bin

I’m late and my hair never plaited,

and my body made me cry,

and the sink was dirty,

and no one thinks I’m a girl,

and my thighs are smeared with dried blood,

I put my jeans over but can feel the grit of the clean blood shed,

At least my jeans are black

I’m late standing somewhere on Old Kent Road,

I want to go home

I’m late and I’m uninspired, unmotivated, uncomfortable and am going to cry.