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Andrew Layman Jul 2020
It all started with saying hello
and now I barely know you
each day grows shorter
and I struggle just to grow through
the disagreements and anger
that find themselves at our door
that only seem to flow true
the only thing I remember now
when you said you hated me
is the sad fact that I asked for this
and how I still only want you.
Lundy Jul 2020
I remember our first conversation. We talked about mermaids.  You made a joke about sea foam, I was intrigued.

I remember you asking me out the first time. And I remember telling you I didn't think you were ready.
You lashed out. I was freaked out.

I remember you leaving without warning. You dropped out of all your classes and hit the road.  For 6 months you sent me pictures of campsites; of elk and bear you'd shared sunsets with. Pictures of you next to cliffs you'd scaled.  Via texts you recounted a story of how you'd climbed a mountain just to find reception to call your ex. I remember wondering why you would tell me that? I felt jealous. It turned me off. I remember you complaining to me that she was a "feminist" I said "Good for her." We both should have known then.

I remember sending you Gloria Steinem quotes with every campsite picture you offered. On your way back to California,  you asked to see me again.

I remember our first date, and how you asked if you could kiss me. I offered you my cheek, and later that night I couldn't stop thinking of your lips. You texted me that you wanted more. I remember touching myself as I fell asleep.

I remember you telling me you would die for me.  Laughing I told you, "That's so dramatic." You smiled confidently and told me you loved me. I said it back. We were watching 28 Days Later. I remember thinking we were so lucky.  

I remember building a bed out of blankets and pillows on our empty apartment floor. I remember countless trips to the hardware store, we were determined to build our own furniture.  I remember planting a garden, and proudly harvesting the garden. I remember frequent candle lit dinners. I remember your hands traveling up my skirt as I poured you more wine. I remember I wasn't wearing underwear. I remember us spilling the wine.

I remember telling you that you were my bestfriend. I remember pretending to be okay when you told me you already had a bestfriend and a soulmate  but that I could be your wife.

I remember the first time you hurt me. You regretted it immediately. Held my face in your hands I remember you kissed my cheek, again.  I still trusted you.

I remember the first time I hurt you. My off-white satin dress reflecting the moon. My animosity verbal daggers, I was so ****** I forgot to be ashamed. Sometimes I still forget.

I remember you telling me that I will never be your priority. I remember transferring money into your bank account. Weekly. I remember working 12 hours and coming home to give you head. I remember falling asleep on your chest as you massaged my neck. I remember thinking that was love.

I remember finding women's underwear in our laundry. An earring in our bedroom, and butterfly hair clips in your car. I remember not believing you when you told me they were your sisters. I remember letting it go.

I remember that time you threw me against the dresser. I remember you telling me it was my fault. I remember letting it go.

I remember with you I had found a sister and a mother. I remember realizing these women I loved were victims of abuse. Belittled and silenced. I remember realizing I was a  victim of abuse. Belittled and silenced. I remember being disgusted with myself. I still wanted you.

I remember you calling me abusive. And you were right, I had changed.  "A cornered dog may cower, or it may bite." Our therapist had said. Do you see any of that now? Do you see how bruised I was?


I remember almost getting murdered. And how much I struggled to feel alive after. I remember asking you for help. You told me it's not your responsibility.  

I remember the anguish.  I remember thinking about suicide. I remember telling you I didn't know how to survive. I remember you telling me I was weak. I remember behaving, feeling, like my mother.

I remember you hovering over me. Intimidating me. I remember telling you to step back. I stood on my tippy toes to look big too. And when you didn't back down, I chest bumped you. I remember you weren't sure if you should laugh or fight. I remember you telling me you didn't love me anymore and you hadn't for some time. The next morning I woke you up with my mouth on you.

I remember you leaving me. I stood in the doorway and promised myself I would not beg. I let you walk away. An hour later you returned, but not for me. It was never me. You took your gun and video games and again I stood at the door. This time I begged you to stay. I remember you walking away. I remember our dreams. I remember understanding that I was ******* done.

I remember packing under a THC haze. I remember leaving my lingerie for you to find in our closet.  In your closet. The black one with the garter belt on display. I remember Bodie having diarrhea on the carpet. I left it there. I also left you with enough money for two months rent. I remember you texting me telling me I owed you more.

I remember the day I ran out of clean underwear. I was late for work and so I wore your sisters, or were they your ******? They fit comfortably. I felt sick. I ***** called my neighbor when I got off work. I remember opening wine at 3am and doing everything to him that you used to ask me to do to you.

I remember you reaching out to me over some ******* excuse. I told you that you had already lost me but that wasn't yet true. I just had absolutely no faith left in you.

I remember that none of it was ever worth having you.
Mel Little Jun 2020
"I have to go home now."

Home is an empty apartment with too many empty soda boxes stacked in one corner waiting to be ripped up.
Home is kid's toys littering my hallway, try not to step on that Hot Wheel I keep forgetting to pick up.
Home is every other week of coloring and kids shows on tv and patiently teaching my son how to tie his shoes.

Home is not how it used to be.

There is no screaming in my home now. No wondering if I am good enough. No empty promises of, "this will make our marriage work," when all the counseling in the world couldn't help.

Home is learning to be alone with myself for the first time in four years. Home is quiet with no tv to listen to in the background while my son sleeps at his fathers and my whole life is different than it was six months ago.

Home is strength in leaving. Home is where I will heal. Home isn't four walls, but the cavern inside myself I've filled with lies that need to be dug out of the pits of time and cleared with sage and home... just simply isn't what it used to be.

But I will rebuild.
ava May 2020
i take a piece from both of my parents
my mothers sensitivity, and longing of the feeling of love.
her hypochondria, and her attitude.
when i was younger i promised id be nothing like her, we always seemed to but heads but as i grow older i see so much of her in me.
i see my father’s manipulative ways in me,
the way i pick people apart until they scream.
i was cursed with his argumentative ways, and his strong opinions.
i watched my father tell my mother she was less of what she was my whole life, and shes wiped her own tears. kept her head high. fed the kids like she was told and washed the dishes when she was done.
they never slept in the same bed. never kissed. never hugged.
when they broke up, i was confused. i thought that was love?
he always made it so clear he never needed her, he rubbed it in her face, and she still stayed. for 9,125 days she stayed. she convinced herself it was love. she convinced herself she was doing the right thing by inhaling his insecurities but she knew it was wrong.
she left.
he broke,
he needed her she didnt need him.
he needed her to hold him together because he was the one who was really broken.
he was feeding off of her and he couldnt stand seeing her not need him.
they broke up 8 years ago and hes never let a woman even come close to taking her place.
watching that taught me to see whats in front of you.
now im proud to be like my mom.
Ankit Mangal May 2020
It was both exciting and nervy,
The beginning of my best journey, I thought,
When the talks began, cloud of doubts began to fly away,
Understanding without words, care without need
Gift without expectation and love without bounds,
Now wait was killing me more, finally It was over,
After the light and sound show was over,
Slowly, words became orders, need became want,
Expectation became demands and love became 11 to Midnight affair,
But then suddenly, something hidden deep dark surfaced,
Within blinks it turned savage, so deep,
I asked for penny, other thought of rupee,
I asked for time, other thought of possessiveness,
I asked for holding the hand, other thought of getting strapped,
I asked for respect, other thought of *******,
Finally, I asked just for love, other thought of just ***,
Still maintained it, expecting unexpected,
But the cloud of arrogance obscured the view,
Helplessly decided to let go, thought necessitate,
Other haven’t shed a tear, thought did correct,
Finally, trusted the worst was over,
But hardly did I know, a bigger fight was pending,
I shed tears, compromised and bent, other unmoved,
Still, they put me in the same coffin as other,
What made me undeserving, walking away for self-respect,
Then, why do I have to search only among the divorced,
What made me impure, your eyes or my uncompromising necessity,
I now know how it feels like being stuck on deserted island,
It’s hard to **** yourself and harder to live knowing it’s going to be a slow death,
Indeed, it was the best journey, how else have I learnt.
This is a true thing happening in developing nations where society judges divorced people very differently. So, its an appeal to society stop judging people.
dims May 2020
you always think i'm lying
even though the truth serum
that you gave me,
(in the form of forcing myself out of my body)
has been administered in such a large dose
that it's seeping out of my eyes

there's a bright light shining in my eye
and i have taken the multiple blows from your words
some of which still leave imprints.

i tell you that i want to leave
that i want him to pack up and take me with him
because maybe then i can find some peace
in the ever turning turmoil that haunts my mind.

you just say,
"i don't care."

maybe you're too busy playing the victim
to watch me claw at my face in an attempt to get out.
haha mommy issues
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