There's a very specific sort of shame
that follows joy
when you're abuser is nice to you

It trails behind a
seemingly inexplicable burst of happiness
Dragged in between the inciting incident
and the recognition that this is just a diversion
and you let yourself be fooled again

This is the high before the fall
This tastes like good memories
because they've succeeded
in drowning you in misery

A small gesture feels like a life preserver
A door you think they'll share with you
But they're not at your side wading through the tide
They pushed you in the water in the first place

But when they hold out a buoy
A kind word
An ugly type of hope

You don't remember that
This is the type of happiness that comes with hooks
With strings attached
You're the marionette

And they'll you drag out
only if you just wrap them back around your limbs.
And you are tempted by a
familiar and convenient kind of amnesia

When I look at things
in the grand scheme
I'm not so sure this was the person
I was supposed to end up being.

Generally scared and distrustful of other people
Hard
Prickly
Sometimes I feel so stagnant and unheard
My writing feels like my last will and testament

It's easier to keep secret
Than to talk too much
And realize no one cares

People only want to hear your darkest desires
When they've coerced it out of you
When they're pulled from you against your will
There's something so tasty about reluctance to them

And my bed holds me hostage
No longer a sanctuary or place of rest
It weighs down all my decisions
And wraps up my never quiet head

It embraces me so tenderly
In what can only be described as a choke hold
And my hands get so cold

In the dead of winter
I took my heart off the shelf
But in the dead of winter
I find it so hard to care about anyone else