When I hear the words "abusive relationship"
I think of the gruesome pictures of women
battered and bleeding
that they showed to us in health class.
They forget that not all wounds are so easily seen.
not MY relationship.
I would never fall victim to such a horrific cycle,
of emotional abuse.
Sure he screamed and called me every name in the book,
but at the end of every night he swore he loved me.
And sure he kept tabs on me at all times,
and my friendships began to fade into the background,
but he just worried, which meant he cared.
...right?
not MY relationship.
Sometimes we become so invested and fall so deeply in love,
that we become numb to the pain.
The abnormal becomes normal.
And the punishment that you so often receive,
you begin to believe is deserved.
MY relationship.
I hesitate to call it abusive,
maybe because it has such a horrifying ring to it.
Maybe it's denial.
But whatever it is,
it took me 3 years to finally break the cycle.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 8:47 AM UTC
You see it from afar. Noticing the subtle glow.
"I'm sorry it hasn't been raining for you lately. Will the crimson of my wrists be worthy enough for you?"
"I'm sorry the rays of sunshine haven't been gleaming and lighting you up. Will the blaze from skin all the way to my bones, when I set myself on fire, be worthy enough for you?"
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 8:36 AM UTC
The funny thing is that I can forget about you for months on end
But on a random night when my blankets are pulled up high and the blinds are pulled back
And my alarm is set for 6 AM, when I used to get your good morning texts,
that’s when you sneak back into my head
With your warm lips and your silly laugh
And your sweet pet names and your wandering hands
Back into my dreams, petting me across the cheek and through my hair,
But lately in my dreams
You’ve started to look at me with such hatred
That I have a hard time believing it’s a dream at all.
(p.h.) (j.r.)
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 2:22 PM UTC
I just don't understand, and I think that's what love is... waiting for someone because you know that they still have some growing to do, or maybe it isn't? And I'm just the one hurting myself. It's kind of like knowing the ending to your favorite movie and you expect the ending or a line to change but it doesn't. That's what I'm doing. I'm hoping there's going to be some change but there isn't. I don't know what I'm doing to myself, but I can tell you that I cross his mind daily, and I'm not just saying that to get me by... And maybe I don't cross his mind as much as he crosses mine but I'm sure I do. Maybe I'm waiting because I have hope something will sprout again, but if you can grow flowers from where dirt used to be, why can't our love grow again? Maybe Winter came too fast for us, but the rescuing of Spring comes right after, doesn't it? So why can't our love grow again just like the flowers? I know its 3am but I have literally been waking up every thirty minutes or so and the first thing that comes to mind is you. He's the first thing I think about in the morning when I wake up and the last thing before I go to sleep. I'm fine without him, but I'm not over him, and I don't know when I will be.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
I still remember you
I lost you because non-commitment was all I could give.
Now I wake with my sheets soaked with the residue from my nightmares, suffocating me.
I long for those days when the sun was setting and hand in hand we'd sit, in silence.
You'd pull me closer to share your excitement with me; grab a fist full of my hair to allow you to enter into matrimony with my lips.
I long to have your presence next to me; to see the rise and fall of your chest reminding me that that is where my home is.
To have you wake me in the morning with your arms protectively caressing me, rhythmically and suggestively moving along my body...
To have you send shivers down my spine with your hot breath as I feel you smile into my neck
I remember your lips became the metaphor for our young hasty affair:
your lips often grazing every crevice on my body, arousing feelings in me I never thought existed and exciting this dormant precious place between my thighs.
My thighs, which are now the empty hallways you used to roam with so much passion and ferocity used to release waterfalls that cascaded down in a pleasurable release,
long for one more body trembling exhilarating encounter.
But most of all I long to be loved again.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 3:42 AM UTC
*i worry about him all
the time*
i told you and
you shook your head like
you knew all too well
eleven nights later,
you tell me to get some
sleep, you say **i worry about
you all the time**
and i'm starting to think
it's code for people who
are trying to say 'i love you'
to someone who doesn't
love them back
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
i care about you more than i should. there's no rational reason for me to; it's been long enough, with few enough words between us and small enough talk. we've dissolved into strangers, but to me you'll never be estranged; i think about you everyday, even when you should be the farthest thing from my mind. when i'm putting on my uniform for a school you never attended. when i'm driving down a road that you couldn't even name with a map. when i'm dissecting a cat, for christ's sake, committing an act so clinical it could be performed by a robot. i shouldn't feel anything, especially not for you. but i do. i still do.
it doesn't consume me the way it once did, thinking about you. you don't consume me the way you once did. i don't ache at the thought of you.
but still. there you are. you've made yourself comfortable in the back of my mind and something tells me you've no plans to leave.
and something tells me i'm okay with that.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC
He inhaled his cigarette
like he was taking in the cancer
to smoke out the monsters within.
I smoked my cigarettes
like I was trying to **** myself
to **** the beast within.
And that's how we found each other
sitting on a park bench
smoking the demons away.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC
Addiction is tricky
For example:
A man who quit smoking for 11 years spent 15 seconds in an elevator with a man smoking a cigarette
He gave in.
What I’m trying to say is:
I think I love you again.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
they say
i will be here for you
you believe them
but it's the dead of night
your mind is racing
you're clutching a blade
dragging it across your skin
your tears fall every second
you scream into your pillow
you isolate yourself
they say
i will be here for you
you dismiss them
but they weren't there for you
so you say nothing
when they ask what's wrong
you smile and laugh
when you want to cry
you don't let them see you
the way you need them to
they say
i will be here for you
let them prove it
open up
ask
for
help
/evjs
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC