Rejection Was My Name

I was that nude at the bottom of a river,
swimming with the sympathetic fish for weeks and weeks
my senses dragged the waters for me,
until I came out with blue flesh,
full of seaweed and coral marks while you stood on the shore unwilling to wade the chilling waters to find me,
to keep me from telling the world that you were the one who chained me all up with your indifference

I wonder what ended us?
I was like that girl stabbed endlessly then tossed into the dumpster
were they like me?
Still calling you and did you break the bones in their voices
so you wouldn’t have to listen to them anymore?
Is that why men really strangle women to shut them up?
If only you told me to shut up, but you were always too polite
about eating me as a canary in a cartoon
so you hid me in your jaws for awhile
like the cartoon cat to avoid being caught

I believed you holding onto you like a foot torn off that same dead hare
but you never called
and the agony of the silence made me call even more
the deep agony of the dial tone accused me
and you think I would have figured it out
but I was never good at puzzles
I thought like a Rubik’s cube I could force the colors
of your feelings to match mine
but the more I turned the less the colors matched
frustration or lack of sense made me take the first set of pills

Rejection was my name, and I wore it across my heart
and like an ugly burn I knew the others could see it too
I continued calling 1,500 times a day, and you came up
with every excuse not to be there

I imagined keying your gold Saturn from a nearby bench, and the pigeons and birds that foraged for food knew me
better than you
I waited as a job from 9 to almost 5 waiting to catch glimpses
of you talking to colleagues or other students

In the beginning I was the flavor you wanted
chocolate must have been the flavor when
the semester started
when you moaned your silly love to me
to strip my defenses as clothes off
and more than my clothes were left shredded
to pieces in your office

I believed you, the way a child believes in Santa
fooled by manners, an Armani suit, and a leather
brief case, your smile was to throw me off

when you finished with me , there was another girl
in the lobby,
you were my professor
trying to squeeze the last drops of youth
position is a great boa constrictor wrapping itself around
taking you by the throat
an institution not to go against
and like wolves they put on teacher’s, priests, and police
garments to camoflauge their darkest intentions
hiding the deep claws and sharp fangs long enough
to get their next meal,

you knew how to prey
and you salivated

once I was so entangled in your spider’s web
by emotion, love becomes the cruellest adhesion
I lived holding chunks of air as an angry toddler
and I was always hoping to catch you inbetween meals
and bathroom breaks and coffee breaks or meetings
or your whole other life with the woman you were
married to

I was just an appointment, a mere formality
In those days I begged for existence in the shadow
of you
just so you would run your cold hands over me
as if you were a knife prepared in the freezer
a blade of ice cycle, a calculated stalacitite hovering
above me

and you sucked the fluids from me before you had
to run off again
and behind your lips hid the arsenal of weapons
breaking into my mouth,
with that tongue you used as a crowbar

it was always you trying to hurt me
even when you were loving me
you had some purpose for throwing your hips
hard against mine to assualt me
and that chain below your waist you whipped at me
to bruise me
and those were the knife wounds on me
the places you put your hands on me
then tossed me out into the street
when you were done

indifference is a weapon as good as any pistol
it is that fist dliberately aimed into the eye’s of a woman
to humiliate her
everytime we spoke it was to make certain that I understood
the arrangement
even a mistress would have been insulted by this
she would have tendered her resignation
she would have gotten severance pay
but I was only the hired help
there was nothing to prevent you from ignoring me
then completely divorcing my insistence

How do they do it?
woman married for twenty years
suddenly finding themselves alone again
it’s the indignity of being tossed
without recourse,
without having a department to complain to
homeless women kicked out of the shelter
of husbands

we wander through such harsh dirt roads on foot
begging our governments to look at us
to feed the gaping holes of our children
but no one sees they need shoes or fathers
and these are the dark places of the world
and standing on the edges of precipices of bills
long overdue
and the things that come up everyday
like eating
and who looks at our outstretched hands?

except for you with your voice so soft
wanting to convince me that the coldness of a blade
would be soothing against my skin
if I took it the right way
like clearing something out for something else
and there were times you paid more attention
to the lint on your jacket than to me
still I would call to feel the delicate tip of your tongue
against my throat to massage me
and your words deep with conviction
and no remorse made my neck run red
and your smile was like a plague upon me
when you seem to acknowledge me
but really don’t
and is there is shame inside you?
getting away with your adultery
is what really makes you happy.

with your rhetoric, I wrote thoughts of blood
and suicide
and your precision was a doctor’s scalpel
shrewd and uninterested
something very cold, logical and theoretical
you examined me instead of love me
then you pulled off your plastic gloves
to go on to the next


Rejection Was My Name

Matty B. Duran

Joined July 2009

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 2

Artist's Description

This poem was written in the summer of 1999. I wrote this after a painful relationship with a college professor years ago. With men, there is indifference. But with the Saviour there is Everlasting Love. Whenever i strayed from the Footprints of My Saviour i sinned. There is no Love like the Love of Jesus Christ. Even after i sinned, He extended wonderful Mercy to me, washed me with His Blood, and made me whiter than snow.

Artwork Comments

  • Kathryn Jones
  • Matty B. Duran
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