He had three freckles on the back of his neck
I connected them once as a web to form a perfect isosceles triangle
1, 2, 3 innocent dots
each throwing out bait for me to catch
It begins as
I gazed at his smooth skin, counting every hair on his head
Each lock commanded me to bow down to them-and I did
I plead that one day,
he’d see as much worth in me as a shampoo bottle-with all but one drop left.

He had three freckles on the back of his neck
but I can’t remember if his eyes were green or brown.
Once his skin grazed against mine
and I felt his cells inject in the crevices of my skin
and plant themselves like seeds; I waited desperately for the flowers to grow.

He had three freckles on the back of his neck
I don’t know what color his eyes were,
but I remember he had long, thin fingers that were cold on my skin.
I was in the middle of his web now
in his triangular chamber.
Stuck on the far side of his left ear
straining to reach so I could plant a seed of “Emily” in his brain
After all, he’d already planted many in mine.
I shrunk my body
down,
down,
down,
and curled up,
stretching and shrinking myself
in unthinkable ways
so I’d fit in his small hands.
It never occurred to him
that perhaps, he should widen his arms
to encompass me.

He had three freckles on the back of his neck
I would’ve remembered if his eyes were green
His thin fingers curled up into boulders
and left bruises on my pale flesh
I let it happen
thinking that perhaps
fist-shaped purple
were the petals of
a beautiful flower.

I want to break free of the triangle web containing me
but all along I was caught on the soles of his feet
diminishing my worth
with every step he took.
I was in a dark room
and the only doors to escape
were labeled with “ugly” and “worthless”
in his handwriting.
His flowers turned into weeds.
I was captured in a never ending tunnel with each end polluted by
his smirk that said “nothing” but his eyes that said “baby”
I was gripped in his steel hands that were too strong
for my weak bones.

He had three freckles on the back of his neck
none of which asked, “Do you want to?” or said
“I’m sorry.”

He had three freckles on the back of his neck.

I’ve since learned
that triangle cages often fall on one side
and break.
He had three freckles on the back of his neck
3, 2, 1
My bones are not dirt
and even if they were
I’d rather make peace with the insects living inside me
than let someone take a shovel to my spine
and dig all of who I am out.
I am not a Barbie doll.
No one can dress me up.
The bruises are gone now
and it ends
as I walk away.