My brain has been torn apart
Crumpled together
And smeared across the billboards of my timeline
My heart shredded and trampled on
My body has seen torments and tortures
That parents fear and
Don’t understand the possibility.
I was told it was my fault.
Every action had its cause.
Every act of terror had its reason.
Me.

But it was never my fault.

I wasn’t the reason I hated this thigh,
Or this skin
Or these bones.
Or this brain
This way of thinking.

Nothing was ever wrong with me.

I’ve lost track
Because that’s what happens
When the frequency of an event
Is high.
None were the same,
But all had the same ill intent.
Something along the lines of
This body is mine to use
You owe me this
I’ll get what I want.

The flashbacks come like waves,
Changing intensity with the moon.

Much of my life has held the essence of the moon.

I’d sit asking for guidance,
Relief, happiness, help.

It took some time,
My prayers had a way to travel.

Now I sit warmly with the moon,
Discussing how
This is my body to use
I owe myself this
I’ll get what I want.

And through gaining my power back,
The waves calm,
And I thank the moon.

Love doesn’t rely only on the sentence
Love in my childhood home was said
A lot
And the kids meant it.
She was the only love we had
Or knew or wanted.
Her love was diluted,
Spent across many things.
Herself mostly,
Her wants, ideas, hobbies,
Her luxuries that we could enjoy…
Sometimes.
Maybe selfish or naive
We thought it was her devotion to us.
But we only watched Nickelodeon
To satiate her longing to watch tv rather than work,
Or raise us.
Or love us.

I learnt young that love isn’t just
The sentence.

But mourning a mother daughter relationship
Is a lifelong sentence.

Sometimes I can’t imagine normal adult things happening to me
Like buying a house, a new car
Being a bride in a wedding.
Getting a “big girl career” beyond retail.
Wanting kids.
Because I haven’t had normal things happen to me.
I was robbed of many things,
A childhood,
Development.
Love.
And a lot of the time I forget I’m 26,
Wearing a made up, misplaced childhood,
Still locked into teen age.
It’s not a resurrection of the dead.
It’s a reimagined gift to myself.
I am my own body guard, protector, nurturer.
I am allowed a childhood.
And I am allowed to have adult things happen to me.
I’m 26.

I’m sorry that I don’t want kids
I’m still a kid myself.
July 2022 was my birth.
Age 25 and flung into blinding light.
Ripped from the suffocating womb that I had been shoved into
And incubated.
Squished, pushed, moulded,
Deprived of nutrients
From my mother,
From him,
And also him,
And my dad,
And the list of contributors is extensive.

I’m sorry I can’t commit to giving you the grandchild/ren
That you so desperately want.
But I’ve only just been born,
Yet I’ve already done my time.
I have two sisters.
Two kids.
Two souls I’ve grown, nurtured, sheltered, loved, taught.
But didn’t birth.
I’ve already been a parent.
And I’m sorry it’s not in the correct way.
I didn’t choose it.

Today has a weird air about it,
It’s sunny and bright and still
But it feels like mourning.

Is this preemptive?
Premonition?
Or a soft surrender to all my trauma.
A delicate laying down of flowers,
Soft cloths,
A blanket of tears
For versions of me that never survived
Or who were taken by the darknesses.

The seascape in my mind
Just became dark
Filling with morbid clouds
And fiercely black swell.
All of a sudden it switched
And the tv static that only my ear drums can conjure
Became forceful and loud.
In an instant,
Conversations I never imagined,
Spoke loud and vividly.
“I can’t leave my bed today,
Im dreaming of killing myself”
Why?
I feel intoxicated,
And nauseous.
I feel unsafe,
And I can see myself
Dipping under the waves.
Why?
Send the coast guard,
I can feel my lungs draining.

I think we were buried,
******* and yearning before we spoke.
A cosmic connection strung out
Over thousands of years,  
Millions of experiences.
Just waiting for the tension to give in
For the spell of gravity to take hold
And pull us back into each other’s arms.

Or maybe it is much less.
Maybe it is just chance,
Change,
The right time.
Maybe it just is.

It’s the memories of your fingers dancing across my skin at all the places you’d touch me so carefully.
Maybe you’re aware I’m already broken,
Gentle to avoid further damage,
Or maybe your first language is softness, delicate understandings of how to move with my body.

It’s a dark night.
And I sit here,
Cigarette choking me.
But I realise I have learnt so much.
One thing I realised,
Through the tortured delusions,
Is that I am strong.
You taught me strength.
To crawl through the mud,
Dust my bones from the ashes,
They didn’t dissolve in the flames set alight by you.
You taught me,
I can unbury my head,
Push out the heavy smoke
And breathe.
Especially when the lights are gone
And nothing seems tangible.
You taught me to grab a hold,
And pull myself out.

Everyone uses me as a diving platform,
To plunge into their own happiness.
But I still have stage fright.
I’m still scared of drowning…
Of trying.
Shuffle my feet to the edge…
And I jump backwards.
My biggest regret
Is the plunge I won’t take.
Because what if the pool is empty?

I’m like a carnival ring toss prize.
Except modified to be easier won.
Claimed, played with, cared for
And then dropped
But with a limb torn off and pocketed.
All before they’ve left the booth.
So I get grabbed by the attendant,
And strung back up to be won and discarded again.
People easily get bored,
I’m already broken,
So why not take a piece?

Stroll in,
Stay a little,
Take what you need…
What you desperately want.
Leave.
Leave.
Leave.
The door never stops spinning.
Earthquake, storm..
Not even a calm summer breeze
Can make anyone stay.

Nothing steadies the dizziness.
Nothing eases the gagging pain.
Nothing ends this.

I hate that you took away my ability to believe that anyone loves me.
I hate that you twisted my mind in places that forced me to be afraid,
Constantly.
I hate that you made the self hate cut deeper.
You made me hate myself so much more.
I hate that you made me feel so ******* insane,
In a way that I thought I deserved the pain…
Self inflicted or otherwise.
I hate that I begged you to **** me
Just to make the pain stop
And to satisfy this weirdly imbedded thought that somehow it would make your life easier.

I hate you and the ghosts and the scars you’ve left me with.
I hate you and I didn’t deserve this.

And whilst there  are moments like this…
Where I feel empty and worthless.
Know that the times where I feel ten feet tall and more powerful than a god are far more common.
You’ve taken things, pieces of me. But you can’t take anything else.

I hate that my only experience of love,
Before now,
Was a demonstration of narcissisms bargaining chip.
The soul source of a narcissists food to feed the ego.
Because for a long time,
I was in deep belief that love was fleeting.
Here one second,
Non existent the next.
Torturous…
And devoid of any warmth falsely portrayed in movies, books and the lives of my friends.

I hate that I was conditioned to believe love was regimented.
Structured and strictly used to service you.

Affection was a mirage
Shown only when I must’ve needed a reminder to cling to false hope that this was real.

And while some romance films
Toy with the idea of some small sacrifices being involved
None ever quite explained that you had to forfeit your dreams for a narcissists ego.
Luckily, this was something you explained to me.
I should’ve graduated 3 years ago…

Despite your hard hard work to convince me love wasn’t real,
That I was nothing of worth.
I am being loved, shown I too can be supported, encouraged.
And I am stronger
And worthier
And happier
Than I think you are ever capable of feeling.

The hole you’ve dug is a deep one,
Get comfy before they fill it in.

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…

You found me
Shrivelled and collapsed
Wilted and completely withdrawn,
Dangling on the brink of death.
A shell of myself,
A prospect of what I was meant to be.

But you stopped…
Reached out,
Hands open,
Heart whole and bright,
Watered and held me,
Dragged me into the sunlight.

Unable to stand
You held the stake I grew upon
Kissed and nurtured and tended to me.
You let me rise and find my strength.
You showed me the warmth I’ve never felt.
I shone once more.

I’ve never been so loved, so supported…
So…
h o m e .

I’m so thankful.
I’m so happy.
I’m so me.

And I love you.

You can say you made me,
Created me all you want,
But the truth is
I’ve always built myself,
This has been the finest creation I’ve made with raw hands.
All you ever did
Was stamp me down,
Keep me squashed
Under the weight of your narcissism.

But I’ve grown strong,
Bashed and wriggled and crawled out
From under your gloomy shadow.
And I’m shining again.
A certified self-made masterpiece.

i can't see your face anymore,
and yet i taste you every time i close my eyes.
lingering in the sticky gel i gouge out in the mornings,
it smears the mask i've created,
pretending i'm healing.

does the sun finally set
once i've purged you out completely?
or will the flames you wish upon me
drag me back to a clean slate?
phoenix? or perpetual purgatory?

tell me... will i be numb forever?

((your final gift or act of control.))

I once was a stone pilar in the middle of a plateau,
And I was everything for everyone.
But right now I’m at the top of a lighthouse,
Stranded in the middle of the deepest ocean.
And all those that care for me...
Are ships lost at sea.

But soon...
soon, I promise I’ll find my way back to land.
I’ll know what earth feels like again,
Without being eroded by rough swell.
I’ll be everyone’s everything.

And I’ll stand strong and tall,
As a beacon once more.

You swore you wouldn’t hurt me,
And I swear the ache in my bones is all your fault.

Or maybe it’s mine?
For giving in too easily,
For giving you too much of my heart.

And you know I’m terrified of drowning,
But this silence is consuming me.
Swelling my lungs.

This keeps happening,
Like the sun sets and the waves crash...
People keep leaving me.

i.
I’m not cold I’ve just been shaking since you got home.

ii.
3/1/21
you told me I wasn’t enough

iii.
26/12/2020
“if you ever thought I didn’t see being with you for the rest of my life, you’d be wrong”

iv.
Everything you do makes me feel like I’m not enough, which means that every single day I ache. And you will never experience that.

v.
3/12/20
“You’re so beautiful, Madeline”

vi.
Remember when this was supposed to be forever?

vii.
The realisation of knowing you’re gone and what we had is forever over, will always sting and ache always.

viii.
We can start over again

I would let my demons consume me
If it meant that you would be better.
I would let you eat my heart
If it took away your loneliness.
And I would set myself on fire every single day
If it meant that I could hold you
o n e. l a s t. t i m e.

I imagine you holding me,
While I sit and stare at the stars, for hours.
And you watch and smile
While my eyes hold the universe,
And your eyes carry the sunrise.
We're alive.
And I'm so glad I
Stayed around for this.

I thought I was dreaming when you said you loved me.
You uttered I was a fantasy...
The whole world unravelled and gave way beneath me,
Revealing a colourful universe.
A world I fell in love with.

But now you’re gone...

And you don’t love me anymore.

And I am lost...

Sunk back into the darkness.

Like a wardrobe filled with too much ****,
The door that leads to you
Won’t shut, jammed by memories,
And of the constant need of you.
So I’ll leave it like that,
And let parts of you seep out
And swirl around me forever.

Your love was like a light switch in my head,
You know the one where it’s taped up to stay on?
The bulb blew sometimes
But you always ******* another one back in.
Your love made my world so bright,
Gave me clarity and warmth.

But eventually the tape fell weak,
Peeled off and curled up without me realising,
And a chilling storm ripped through my mind.
Flipped the switch, shattered the bulb.
And I grew cold with the rain.
Shivered so much I fell asleep,
But when I woke
I couldn’t flip the switch again.
The light was gone and
You didn’t love me anymore.

I mean...
You could’ve left me at the altar.
It could be worse than this.

Despite my heart dripping through
My broken rib cage...
It could be worse than this.

One day of feeling like I’m being
Crushed and flattened into mud.
But it’s okay,
Because I refuse to be worse than this.

I feel so small and unimportant.
Maybe I was never meant to be more than a fleeting thought.
A disappearing memory; a false attempt at love,
A stepping stone in the direction of anyone else.
There are so many ‘maybes’ filling my tear ducts to the brim.
Like maybe you didn’t love me,
And
Maybe this is how I’ll finally drown.
Suffocated by my own tears,
And ripped apart by your emptiness.

Maybe .n.o.t.h.i.n.g. is all we were ever meant to be.

I used to be comfortable with the idea of loneliness,
And for the most part welcome it as normal.
Solitude was my high ground
And I didn’t need anyone.
Self sufficient, functioning.
I was strong.

But then you showed me it didn’t have to be that way.
I didn’t have to ‘survive’ alone.
I wasn’t an outcast.
I wasn’t alienated.
I was loved.
And could love.
You showed me that I could be accepted.  


And then you left.

And loneliness is so terrifying.

And I am so scared.

I don’t know.
It feels like I’m floating in limbo
Wrapped in barbed wire
Watching you tug the end
As you walk away.

I am waiting. I am aching.
I need to know if you’re working on this too.
Because yesterday was my last day and I’ll be better from now on.
I hope you’ll love me, from now on.

I wonder what it’s like to dream...
What is it like...?
To dream anything but static.

It’s the kind of sadness where your rib cage
Contorts
And twists and
Snaps.

Depression doesn’t float through my veins
It crawls through my bones, with dagger hands
And winding movements.

I cannot breathe.

And yet there was nothing taken from me.

It’s disheartening and debilitating to come to the realisation that yes...

I want to die


Or...


At the very least hurt myself severely.

And I am ashamed.
Terrified.
Sick to my stomach because that thought should never cross my mind
But I’m stuck here day in and day out
With it dancing across my frontal lobe taunting me.
‘Dying would be a delight’.

Impenetrable prison bars line my serotonin and dopamine deprived brain.
And the straight jacket I’m in steals my ability to break my bones to drown out the silence.

‘I always wanna die. I always wanna die’.