to all the boys.

when I was 14, I dated a boy

with caramel eyes and a smile that could melt iron

if I saw him now

I’d ask if he's had his ears checked

so, the next time a girl says stop

he hears it.

when I was 16, I knew a boy

with dimples so deep

I could still see them in the photo he sent me

with a knife to his throat

when I told him I didn't like him.

when I was 17, I dated a man

20, with two cars and

a psychology degree

he told me not to copy his dreams, as if

I hadn't wanted to do psychology since I was 12

his tone was condescending

when he called me smart.

when I was 18, I decided I'd had enough

and left the small town filled with bad memories

but when I got too high in a bed that wasn't mine

with a man too drunk to realise I wasn't participating

I realised I was not invincible.

when I was 19, I thought I loved a boy

with blue eyes and a warm heart

but his words were cold

when he said my trauma was a red flag

as if it made me weak.

to all the boys who treated my body and heart

like the terms and conditions

feigning concern to get access but never listening

to what I had to say,

I have moved the mountains of trauma you left behind

I threw out the razors and put down the bottles

and I moved city after city, alone and free.

you were all right, I am many things

but I am not weak.

I’m 20 now

freer than I've ever been

I love a man who writes songs about me

whose heart feels like home.