The reception is iffy when it comes to you. The images sometimes come out blurry, the definition really low.
There really is no clear-cut definition when it comes to what things should feel like.
I know I deserve better than you. But that’s not the point, is it? Anyone deserves better than the constant doubt, the guilt trips, the gaslighting, the slut-shaming. Being better than you doesn’t make me special.
Most of the time I know which parts to cut, I know what the wounds would look like before anyone declares war on my body. Most of the time I know a red flag when I see one. But what if I don’t? What if I don’t see the red until it’s coming from my palms?
I don’t know if I could know a good thing if I saw it. I am foreign to such creatures. What if I rip a good heart open just to see what it looks like inside, like a kid opening up a working clock just to know if it’s real?
As I said, there are some connectivity problems when it comes to you. The language settings are also wonky. Mi corazón ya no sabe hacer poesía sin recordarte, lo que hiciste. Me quitaste mi casa, me cortaste la lengua.
I clearly need a new prescription. A new default setting, a new baseline. Re-calibrate normal so it doesn’t accidentally look like you.
Pain is not normal. I know that now. And even if it was, I deserve better than the baseline.