Tirelessly I am searching

Reaching for another answer or something else that makes sense

A self-fulfilling prophecy - I shoot myself in the face

Unavoidable

Desolate and Worthless.

I am the source of my deepest grief

An obsession and fixation that can not be shaken.

I am forsaken

Lost

It is the only path that I choose

My muse - I may never let this go

With me in my dreams forever
"I will be scarred for life"

Balloons without strings to hold them will always fly away

Thank you, please, I'm sorry, OK!
This is the **** I've learned to say every day.
You handed me your boyfriend like a present
But wouldn't share with me 1 non-incriminating secret?
You're welcome, sure, it's cool, alrighty,
this is the sensual might of my aphrodite
you interrupt my stories, tell me i'm a mess,
then call me the person who understands you best

If your cracking laugh, loud as a bark
didn't bend me over like a punch to the spleen
defiled again! my own clumsy fault, i suppose
If your approval of my paintings
didn't heat my thighs and send me reeling.
death in my pillow and loss soaking my clothes

I wouldn't have cared if it was just a dumb mistake,
But I smell your poison, heavy in the air
And my throat swallows as much as you want it to take
After years of sharing every horror story
You have not even begun to know me

Or don't you care about shattering this trust?
We are out of supplies needed to rebuild our bridge.
Hovering in anticipation, waiting for you to settle all this dust
But you won't offer a thing that's not inside your fridge.

And I still don't know how to leave you
The myths of queerness are not at all true
Girls might steal as much as they want from me, too
It's all some people know how to do

The victims deal with the abuse.
Then when they get enough courage to leave, they have to go into hiding.
Afraid every-time the phone goes off, that it is them.
Every-time someone knocks on the door, they wonder.
Have I been found? Will I have to move again?
When they go out, they look behind them constantly making sure no one is following them.
Careful to post any information on social media, so they cannot be cyber stalked by them.
A friend request on the internet makes them suspicious, wondering if that could be them.
Someone who is friendly sets off alarms, wondering if somehow this person could be related to their abuser.
The victim did not ask for any of this yet, the only way to survive is to leave and hide.
Forever wondering if they will be found and put through the abuse again.

Skinned ghosts and spilled ink
In a sack of flesh
My very own.