some days i truly believe i’m doing better
but something always happens
when i’m getting close to someone
sharing the intimate details of my life
my story
my shortcomings
my “trauma”
(god i hate that word
that word is reserved for those who went through truly horrible things
but not me
because it wasn’t bad in my head
though i’m learning that there are some pieces missing when i talk to her about what happened)

i can’t get close to people like i could before you infiltrated my life and grew like a slow-moving cancer
constantly there even when there are no symptoms
(god there’s that word again. “cancer.” that ugly
vile
word only reserved for the worst of the worst
that word that made last year the worst year of my life
maybe it was the lack of that word that made it
i don’t know
but i hope that’s what you get
something slow
but hard to treat
i want you to feel what it’s like to feel your insides being ripped apart
feel the sickness
and pain
that i felt.
god i hate myself for saying that
rage clouds the corners of my vision and oftentimes becomes blinding
yet i am stuck
stuck between the feelings of rage and mercy
so diametrically opposed
and different
but i guess somewhere deep down i remember that you’re a human being
but
you are a monster
you preyed on my innocence and naïveté and optimism
and i couldn’t take off my rose colored glasses to see your true form until the damage was done
you had no business with me or getting close to me
or taking me


but i digress