I know that you know
The pain you're so addicted to
Is not truly an addiction
To being hurt
To being made worthless
To feeling inadequate
It's an addiction to
Consistency
To feeling routine
But I know that you know
It's unhealthy
It's harmful
It's cruel
It's mean
Go find love elsewhere
Somewhere with respect
Somewhere with happiness
Somewhere without pain
I know that you know
It will not be easy
But I also know that you know
You need to do it
Because once upon a time
I was just like you
Addicted to the consistency
Of the abuse

I remember a time when he would come home.

And i remember that, you must stand at the door and welcome him home like you are happy, don't forget to be happy.
Tea was always ready and the house would be clean and tidy because it should be, you wanted it to be, and woe betide you if it wasn't.
And then, when tea was finished, he wanted his beer and the tv on
and now you mustn't talk because you shouldn't.
So the kitchen was tidied and everything was just so..
you mustn't forget to make it just so.
But you know the time is coming where the beer is all gone and the match would be lost and the anger would flare.
That's when you want to become invisible but you can't
because he needs to punch something and well..
you're as good as any door.
So after the room was cleaned up and the broken glasses and lip was put away, it was time for bed..
And you can't pretend to be asleep because that doesn't count
as a no.

Thankfully there was a little glow in the dark star on the ceiling you could look up at and wish upon it that you weren't in this room, in this bed right now. I think the people who lived there before left it behind. I knew that if i moved i would take it with me.

And the need to run was immense. But there was no where to go and nobody knew and, after all, it was the way of things, don't complain.. it could be worse.. remember that.. it could be worse.. he said.

I often dreamed of a tiny little bed all of my own with fairy lights and my own place to put my books, but that would have to wait as now is not the time to think of such a silly notion. Stupid ***** that you are.

And so each and every night, i painted the roses red.. so i didn't loose my head.

And running wasn't really an option because, contrary to popular opinion, that is harder than you think.. after all... this was normal and... this is just what happens and... this is just one of those things and... **** it up buttercup, now clean the house again you stupid ****.

And in the gaslighting, which burned very bright, you would have enough of a glow to paint the roses red.
Perfectly red, everyday they would have to be red.

And life carried on for years like this and my friend, the little glow in the dark star and i were the only ones who knew what 'behind closed doors' really meant.

Inevitably children were born into this world of mine, and you can't say no to no contraception, because the need to see his fertility bloom was the most important thing in the world.
Most important.

But i was indeed blessed with more than an armful of joy.

And so we all painted the roses red and in time, we all wondered, which one of us would loose our head.

We moved house and the years passed as they normally do with various reasons to run and threats that made us stay.
But you never run..  because now he might **** you all,
and not just you.
If it was just you, you wouldn't have minded so much...

So we moved house and the little glow in the dark star came along too. It was placed near the light fitting over the bed and i put my finger to my lips and said 'shhh' as i stuck it to the ceiling.
But we knew.

And so, for a few more years you carry the weight of the world, the little secret, and a heart full of love, and begin painting the roses red with your children.
And now you definitely can't leave and you can't run because they might loose their heads and now, now you might have to watch.. while you get to keep yours.

And then a tide turned, well, four tides turned, and damage was being done that my love could not repair.
And that is when i had to be brave and i had to do what i should have done many years before.
I was conditioned to suffer along side and this was normal.
Not that any of that is an excuse.
And although i knew it wasn't right, i knew it was normal.. for me.

A contradiction if ever there was.

But my love for my children will always be far greater, greater than my love for any one else could ever be. Even if it was their flesh and blood.
And him saying we couldn't leave now did not count as a no.
But we didn't leave.
We made him pack his things and go. We had found safety in numbers, we all stood and were counted, we exposed only what secrets needed to be told.
The rest we keep for ourselves.
He never said sorry and he left. And never came back.

So we kept some of the red paint and we added orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet. And we painted all of our roses any **** colour we wanted to. Including ourselves.

And I took down the little glow in the dark star, it had seen far too much and probably needed therapy :o)  

And we will live happily forever after.

He, was always well composed,
what a father should be.
And she, plastered a smile day to day thinking next of what could be,
but it was always just a thought never acted.
The world sees what you want it to see,
how foolish of them,
how foolish of me.
But as a child you also see what you want to see, when the people you love the most hide behind a veil of protection,
Until that veil shatters.
And you are ****** into a world of unknown called adulthood,
you see the bruises, the letters, the threats of violence,
you remember his face,
but now behind his eyes it wasn't love that you saw,
it was possession.
The smile that you loved on your mother was to keep the tears at bay,
and the nightmares you had of her crying and begging were alive because they were right outside your door.

Now left to pick up the pieces,
there is a girl left abandoned,
a farther who hurt because he never loved,
a mother who still says “what if”,
and a facade unravelled.

it would be so easy
if only i hated you

if only i despised the way you
hit me so hard

if only i was disgusted by
how you enjoy my pain

instead of craving your touch
and reaching out for that love
that i'll never find

instead of being happy
whenever you decide to
deem me worthy of being tortured

instead of forgiving
everything and anything

but that's why you're still here
cause you'll always be gold for me

He loved her madly
Pinched skin, purple and blue. Still
her tears gave him joy.

it begins like this:

I didn't realize fall was ending
that global warming brings various change
so when it became cold
my bones reflected the weather reports
till they became disjointed//dismembered
with all the other broken
parts// tumbling along with it.

and now my injuries are representing all four seasons and everyone has got their way, got their reasons...
so I ask the universe this- if the earth will just have a little mercy on me...

please..

i will kiss each one
of your knuckles
just to remind you that
pain and love go hand
in hand

but
oh
how we punish ourselves
with both poisons

and i cannot tell if it's
you or i that brings us
back to this repetitive idea
that love will kiss our
scars and wipe at our
tears with hands equal
to that of
satin bows found
in sewing boxes

but **** did you love
how satin shimmered
-DDF

You were the boy always drinking and high on drugs
and I was the girl always falling for bullies and thugs;
in our toxic relationship you smashed me into pieces time and time again,
yet still I chose your "love" regardless of the torture, abuse and the pain.