Can you really know me
If you don't know the darkness I've seen?
If you don't understand
Why it's so hard for me to sleep?
Or how I have to fight back tears
When I hear someone yelling?
Can you ever truly see me
If I don't show you what's behind me?
The childhood trauma boxed up neat
Until it spills across the floor of my insides
I keep the doors locked mostly
But locks don't prevent earthquakes
And sometimes, the ground shakes and
Frees memories to pool and suffocate
I've thought about speaking them but
Something inside says it's not bad enough
That no one will understand or see me
They'll just judge me as weak
"I'll give you something to cry about"
Hurled at a traumatized body
I don't want you to see me
Because you could call it sensitivity
And overlook the senseless violence
That comes with surveillance, intimidation
To share this pain is too risky
Because so much of it is crazy-making
I can take a punch no problem
It's the other stuff that broke me deeply
Expectations perfectionistic and unrealistic
Repetition into sleep deprivation
Fear flooding my system so entirely
I chose to **** myself over interrupting her
Every week she made me grab the scale
No matter the result, I know I'll fail
If I gain weight then I'm lazy trash
A decrease? muscle weighs more than fat
And when she found out that I hated myself
She had the nerve to act confused
Asking if I know that I'm beautiful
Like I should love this body that could only lose.
She controlled everything
From how I wore my hair
To the clothes on my body.
I learned to move around silently
Rushing to get outside the house
Before she could wake up and yell at me.
She'd scream so close to my face
I'd be showered in her spit
Trying to stop the tears from betraying me.
I'd watch two grown adults fist fighting
Being threatened not to cry
And failing anyway.
She made every decision
Not only what I ate
But how much too.
I'd learn to eat fast like she wanted
Trying to finish what she gave me
It didn't matter that it was too much.
Despite my attempts at compliance
I often threw up before I could finish
And she'd scream about that too.
Alone in bed at night
I'd stare into the glowing clock
And feel the deepest desire to die.
So can you really know me if you never see
That this is the history that haunts me
In the face of insanity there is no winning
So what's the point of it being seen?
