i thought i was shaking because of the cold.
i thought i was shaking as a simple reaction to the weather.
for so long i believed that.
and now i sit here,
shaking,
uncontrollably,
no way to escape it.
the anxiety makes it’s way down my body,
starting with a headache and then trouble breathing and then pain in my stomach and then my hands and feet begin to sweat.
and all i can think,
is how i need you here,
to hold me,
tell me how to fix myself,
help me out of this place,
please i beg you.

but i don’t know where you are.

My name is Erin
and i was *****
at the age of 7

it has taken me
14 years of my life
for those 13 words to escape
my hollow mouth

the only questions i come to now
is why
why lock me in that room
why take everything from me
my innocence
my purity
my childhood

in that room
where my family trusted you
where i trusted you
the night terrors i have to this day
still haunt my mind

like a never ending
drive in movie that plays
over
and
over
only the moon in the night sky
isnt made to be found here
there is no light in these terrors

i cant sleep this time of year
because every time i do
its you
in that room
locking the door
shutting the windows
******* me
yelling at me
every single night
i close my eyes

it has taken me 14 years
to accept the fact that i was taken by you
i have been numb ever since
left in the dust
rotting away at the core
thinking i was nothing
thinking i deserved nothing
because you took everything

but not anymore
i will recover from this
i am strong enough
i believe in myself
i believe in my own happiness
and i promsie
that when i have children one day
i will never ever let them rot at the core
i will find happiness
the darkness will not take over this time

the mind is only as deep as the ocean is wide, for as people we must attempt to grasp both the mind and the ocean.

but i’m afraid of the water.

we listened to bon iver while i drove you home,
that final time.
i had a feeling it would be the end,
but i didn’t say goodbye.
now you’re too far gone,
nothing but a memory and impressions on my skin and the smell lingering on my clothes and the empty bottle of wine.
and those small things you left behind,
insignificant to you,
but they make up my whole world.
now i listen to bon iver as i pass that road,
and can never muster up a sufficient goodbye.

when you have undying hope,
and see the world in new colors,
and everything is finally working out,
that’s the worst kind of pain.
because it all ends and you wish you could’ve stopped it.
i wish i could go back now,
and change how hopeful i was,
but i also miss that hope.
and some of it is still there,
although i’m not sure sure if that’s good or bad.

she says i love you to everyone she knows,
because she’s afraid it will be the last time she can.
and i say it back,
but it’s forced.
and i struggle.
for so long those words didn’t make sense to me.
but now when i say them back to her,
as she leaves my car,
i mean them.
but in a different way than she does.