Something about copyright

Take them all,
scratch your name
across the bottom
and post them.
Take my rejection slips.
I am busy.

I am busy
watching the young girls
take up running.
They pass me in their lycra
and I want to reach out,
I want to tell them
how they knot my stomach.
I want to tell them
how shallow I can be.

I am busy
increasing the weight I push
away from me,
watching the girls
in their lycra
watching me.
I want to reach out
to them.
I went to tell them
that I am just a beast.

They will flutter
and tell me that they know,
but they do not.
They do not understand
how I can only possess
and never love.
They do not understand
that my strength
is the result
of my running away
from something
that I can't say.

Not to them,

because then,
just like you
and just like me
they will know
that my heart died
when I was eleven
and I am okay with that,
but they
-despite how hard
they may wish to try-
will never be.