I have to be strong for other people.*

This is all that I know.

I cannot, must not, break down
in front of another human.  
My pain takes a backseat to theirs.
Cast aside, on my own comand.

I still feel the pain, however.
And when I'm alone...
Sometimes, when alone,
I remember.
I break.
I hurt.

Then I walk out.
Ready to take on another person's burdens.


(d d.b)

They say I'm crazy,
but if that's the case,
then what does that make them?
Becuase it sure as hell isn't sane.

(d.d.b)

My eyes are weary
and teary.
My smile is faded
and painted.
My heart is torn
and forlorn.

I'm broken, dear.
Far too broken, I fear.

(d.d.b)

Why do people lie,
about such serious things?

"Your case will be looked at."
"He'll be brought to justice."
"No one is angry at you."
"It's not your fault."

Those things were said,
but I swear,
none of them were meant.
Because it's been seven months since I reported him,
and not a **** thing has happened in my favor.

My case hasn't even hit the district attorney,
and either way, I've been told it most likely won't pass.

My ****** gets to walk free;
free to violate other women,
and free for me to have to see him often
in this annoyingly small town.

My parents are ashamed.
We don't talk about it anymore;
hell, we hardly ever did.
They were angry at me.
Not him.
Never him.

All I've been shown,
is that it's my fault for letting him inside.
It's my fault for befriending him.
It's my fault that he didn't listen when I said no.

I fear this situation will never be resolved,
and I am forever cursed to carry this burden
alone.

So don't lie to me about such things.
Because I'll see the truth anyways.  

(d.d.b)

It doesn't matter.
Don't you see?
You can break and batter,
but I'm still me.

You can punch and kick,
and shout verbal abuse,
But you don't get to pick;
I'm not a tool for your use.

I may be hurt and scarred
but you cannot change me.
You can make my life hard,
but I'm still what you see.

For better or for worse, I'm still me.


(d.d.b)

I don't want to fall asleep becuase I know you'll be in my nightmares

Your touch.
Your voice.
Your sly smile.

The way you always take "No"
to mean "Yes."

I fight the unconciousness my body craves to save my mind from the vicious terror that is the memory of you*


(d.d.b)

My heart is a pin cushion.
Various people have stuck needles
into it; but that's its purpose.
That's the good part.

The bad part, you see,
is when the needles are taken out.
I no longer have a meaning,
and I no longer feel loved
or useful.

Because what is a pin cushion
without needles?
I've got the holes
where they once were,
but that is all I have.

My heart is a petty, scarred
little pin cushion.
And there aren't any needles in sight.

(d.d.b)

I injected you,
   and I swallowed you.
I drank you,
   and I snorted you.

Little bits of you
course through my viens.
My blood;
darling, my blood is the pigment
of your skin.

You forever exist in my body,
and my nervous system is hightened
solely by you.

My love, you maketh me.


(d.d.b)

Rain is falling.

   Thunder is crashing.

        Lightening is striking.

That's a daily;

    How can it not be?

        This isn't just a storm.

Electricity and precipitation?

    Honey, they aren't from the sky;

         Not tonight.

Tonight, you inquire?

   That's sad but simple, you see,

        The storm comes from the heart

         inside of me.



(d.d.b)

When I was young,
I believed in magic.
I always did "spells"
to keep away my faux enemy.
I called my enemy "The Darkness."
Imagine, this young girl,
only in elementary school,
running around and rambling about
"We must keep the darkness away."
"The darkness is going to get me."
My 'friends' turned me away,
finding me horribly odd.

A few years later,
magic hopes long forgotten,
it turned out I was right.
The Darkness came for me.
Who knew that little child
could have predicted
my futute mental disorders.


(d.d.b)

It's been a few years,
since I picked up that blade
determined to slice the sadness
out of my viens.
Ridges and indentions
of scar tissue
litter my body.
Yet, even now,
when I get really down,
I still want to add to my collection.
I am starkly aware
that it's not right,
not at all; but,
nothing else works quite as well.
Besides...
perhaps it's a punishment, too.
One that I deserve.


(d.d.b)

Prolonged social exposure
exhausts me.
It sets my mind on fire,
but in all the wrong places.
I lose interest too quickly
for small talk,
and lack of intellectual conversation.
A little is fine, beleive me,
But I can't stress it enough,
prolonged social exposure
exhausts me.


(d.d.b)

Old text messages are the devil
Because they show that one day
it was *"Let's go get coffee together."
And that day led to making out,
behind a shed neither of us owned.
They show that the next week,
you were on your way over
to my house.  
"On my way."
And that day...
oh, god, that day...
I trusted you.
I said no.
My trust was misplaced.
You violated me anyway.
They show that you kept in contact;
you texted me daily for a month after.
As if nothing happened.
As if my life hadn't been torn apart.
"I love you."
"You want to get coffee again?"


(d.d.b)

The memories are killing me.
They drown me,
as if I am tied down
with thousands of pounds
and have been thrown
into the ocean.
The memories haunt me.
Like a spider you see
out of the corner of your eye
but can't quite reach to ****.
The memories consume me.
They envelop my soul
with dark, thick smoke
and leave me struggling to live.

Take away the memories.
They are becoming me.


(d.d.b)

Sighs escape my lips.
Tears escape my eyes.
You escaped from life, and now...
I wish we were side by side.


(d.d.b)

I was intoxicated with you,
  *but my dosage was too high.           
 When you left me, empty,
     well, darling; the withdrawals
             **** near killed me.



(d.d.b)

Will it ever makes sense?
      it doesn't make sense
Will I every be okay?
      I'm not okay
Will this pain ever end?
      God, there's so much pain...




(d.d.b)

Ten shots of tequila
can sure make me numb,
but it didn't erase everything.
I sobered up too quickly,
and still had flashbacks of you
in my sleep.
Alcohol isn't the answer,
but, I drank it anyway.


(d.d.b)

you touched me again in my dream last night,
and I swear I woke up screaming*


(d.d.b)

It mesmerizes me,
that out of all the people
you chose me as your target.
But am I the only one?
Am I the only violation
that you have caused?
I hope, for once,
that in this instance
I am alone in this.
Don't rip away anyone else's
peace of mind.
Please.
Let it only have been mine.
No one else deserves this hell.


(d.d.b)

Was I too complex for you?
Tell me, what is it that I did wrong?
I know it must of been a lot,
For you to throw me away to rot.
You scream words of hatred,
while I cry tears of grief.
Grievence for the love
that we once shared.
It was a passionate,
beautiful love.
A love that along the way
became one sided.
I will always love you, my dear.
You could stab me
and I'd apologize
for bloodying up your knife.
I apologize everyday.
I wasn't enough.
I wish I had been.
  

     (d.d.b)

People say,
I should be over it.
"It was, like, a year ago. Stop being so afraid."
Don't you people see?
A year ago is all too close to me.
(and, for the record-- it's 11 months and 6 days)
How do you just 'get over' the loss of your peace of mind?
I sure as hell haven't figured it out.
I still see him
in my nightmares,
in the flashbacks.
Some people think I actually am over it.
But I know that I am not.
I flinch when others touch me without warning,
I cannot open the front door,
I'm unable to walk down the street.
I'm so hyper aware of what happened to me.
I swear, he is buried in my sheets.

So don't tell me to get over it.
Unless you can somehow tell me how.
  

                         (d.d.b)

I don't wish harm on people
                                                           BUT

to the guy who stole my innocence,
I hope you know that I wake up at night
screaming from the nightmares
of what you did to me.
You, you ******* monster,
who thought it was okay to ignore me
when I told you "no."
Who thought it was okay to pin me down
on my own **** bed.
I hope you get justice,
however it may come.
The courts aren't listening to me,
but you'll get what's coming.
You have to.
It isn't fair if you don't.

I don't wish harm on people
                                                          BUT
Maybe you're the one exception.





                                          (d.d.b)

If you ever want to **** me, ***,
                                       don't be surprised
                                                    whe­n I hand you the gun.


                               (d.d.b)

My brain is a flower,
and right now,
among the multitude
of anxiety attacks,
and copious amounts of stress,
I feel as if
I
am
wilting.

(d.d.b)