I wish I never knew what it feels like to have a broken heart.
How each bone in your body feels like it’s dragging as baggage.
How each portion of food you ate never really satisfied you.
I wish I never knew what it feels like to be discriminated against.
How the color of my skin determines how I walk this earth.
How being a woman labels me as a second class citizen;
a backseat passenger.
I wish I never knew what it feels like to miss a ghost.
How the wind blowing makes me think about the way you walked.
How the leaves changing colors makes me think about your heart changing beats.
I wish I never knew what it meant to live in the world in fear.
When I walk into a home on the first floor.
When I walk down the street, thinking about the person walking behind me.
I wish I never knew what it meant to be a woman without the right to her own body.
How my right to choose is criticized; my right to make my own decision.
How I am not allowed to walk the streets alone without the fear of getting sexually
I wish I never knew what your house looked like.
How the stairs going up to your room is right by the door, welcoming me in.
How the kitchen was always bright—either by your smile, or by the refrigerator light.
I wish I never knew what your lips felt like against my neck.
Your warm breath as you exhale.
Your hands gripping my waist, always pulling me closer.
I wish I never knew violence.
Those cries from the mothers, wives, children, fathers, brothers. They Can’t Breathe.
Those cell phones ringing in the silence of the Pulse club.
I wish I never knew that boys pick on the girl they like.
I wouldn’t have let you pick at my bones.
I wouldn’t have accepted that I was never enough for you