Maybe I need you,
But I’ve never needed anyone.
Little girls make up stories to keep the monsters from grabbing ankles clad in lace trimmed socks,
But monsters shouldn’t have pulled them onto her feet every morning.
I didn’t need them.
Just this week I was asked,
“But you weren’t with anyone all through college?”
I was too busy being afraid of myself.
I was too busy knowing I was untouchable because my body was not one of willows and reeds.
My learning curve matched the line of my hips and I waited patiently.
You straightened out the lines in the twisted way your fingers played at the angle of my neck stretching toward the lightning of your lips.
I’d never known falling until you pushed me over and over again and it was all thunder, longing for the flash.
I’d never known another as I knew your hands, how they knew mine.
I’d never known silence as comfortable as your heartbeat and mine crashing for an eternity of lips on lips.
I’d never known the comfort of your arms in the dark and I’d never known the clarity of walking with a spine that didn’t scream “hide.”
I never knew what I needed until I had it but I know I don’t want to find you shattered like I did that night.
I’ve been hiding my ankles under the covers even as my skin cries to be held by more than blankets.
I am invisible.
Maybe I need you.
Maybe I know what’s right.
Stay tuned for Anne’s No Rules Friday next week.