My trauma dictates that I will never deeply believe that I am enough for the people I love.

My fear of failure isn’t a perfectionist, drive to succeed.
It’s a smothering fear that I have done you wrong.

And I’m not sure if I’ve abandoned all self worth,
because it’s never made the ones I love love me more when I feel worthy.
Or if it’s been stolen, burnt, or smashed a million times over
and I’ve been stuck in a groundhog day loop,
Shuffling all the pieces into a dust pan with my hands.  

What I’m trying to say is,
I can rebuild,
I can cut, rejoin, fade the scars away.
I can sit myself on the tallest tower,
Call myself a giant, the bigger person.

But I will never, never regain these segments of self worth when in 25 years a handful of people have continuously robbed me of them.
When something like that is missing, it must be substituted.
I need reminders… I am enough.

Are you still drinking every night?
Who do you scream at now?
Now that I’m not there to bear the brunt of your violent insecurities?
Help is an insufferable waste of air
When the one needing it is in narcissistic denial.
Part of me hopes the crumble of your career
Obliterates your shiny golden god complex.
The rest of me doesn’t give a ****,
Because after the years of manipulating and pain
I’ve torn the shackles, broke free
And you don’t mean a ******* thing anymore.
A forgotten false god.
Enjoy your downfall.
I won’t see it from my rightful throne.

At nineteen,
I told you my deepest darkest secret.
I thought I could rely on you to hold my hand through the pain.
Figured the fact we knew each other for so long meant we had a bond.

At nineteen, I told you he ***** me.

At nineteen, you shapeshifted.
You morphed into a volcano.
You became explosive with rage.

You told me it was my fault.
That I had to make it up to you.

At nineteen, I told you more truths.
At nineteen, you refused to believe
Or acknowledge, understand,
Or even think for a second that he tried to **** me.

I guess that was something only you were allowed to do.

But it’s all true.
The years I’ve spent walking through hell.
From both of you.
I know you said to never compare you to him.
But you’re much the same.
That’s why you were so afraid when in a sentence I spoke both your names.

It was my birthday.
And the first thing i could say to my coworkers when I saw them after was
“I didn’t cry”

And it’s true.
For the first time in 25 years
I can genuinely say I’m happy
And I had an amazing day.

I didn’t cry,
I smiled and laughed,
Had fun
And felt like myself.
Free, happy, unshackled.

I’m happy.
It took a while,
It took some tears,
It took pain,
It took blood,
But I am happy.
So extremely me
And so ******* happy.

Merry-go-round?
No.
Merry-go-****-yourself.
It wasn’t a pleasant belly laugh joy ride
Like a 4 year old smiling on a rotating plastic pony.
It was a ******* wood chipper.
And you slowly fed me through.
A ******* whirlwind.
Where you pushed me in, limb by limb.
And I swear, before my head got forced in,
I swear for a second I saw you finally smile.
I could describe it like a horror movie villain,
Like some mythical demon,
But you were so much more terrifying.

Though, I fear you forgot how strong I am.
You were quick to believe you had me deep under your spells.
I don’t stay broken for long,
I reform stronger.

I’m not scared of you anymore,
So if you’re like Stephen king’s clown;
He who floats in the sewers,
You can no longer thrive and survive off my fear.
It’s dissipated.
Without a lifeline now, and soon you will die.

I’m sorry.. i’m sorry to the people you call your friends.
But I’m not sorry… I feel no remorse
For their wilful ignorance.

And the loss of losing them in my life
Keeps me weightless.

I know you’d want to,
I know you love to knock me down again.
Punch me in the face, knock out my teeth,
Fracture my wrist and leave me black and blue
For another Christmas and new year.
Just for old times sake.

But I am weightless.
Flying like helium balloons released in happy memory at a wake.
I soar without you.

I don’t need to hope,
Or pretend.

I know you’re sinking.

Your promises of forever and love
Were not permanent with devotion entwined.
They were empty and fractured.
A freezing reality of my deep seeded submissiveness (a poison).
Believing you was the vicious rumbling of my foundations.
Ferocious rattling amidst the tornado winds tore me to pieces.
A silver lining, though, reveals itself through everything.
Sometimes directly after the fact,
But mine shone through years and months later.

I’m better for it.

Maybe because at the time I wasn’t succeeding at treading flood water.
Maybe my lungs were too full of thick, black water that you polluted and brewed within me.

Either way, the gruelling wait.
The heart breaking, tormenting, torturing wait was so worth it.

I am better for it.

At each second I feel your toxins seep from my veins, my bones, my skin and slowly sink back into the ground.
And the space is replaced with a magnitude of better things.
Freedom… love… myself…