My abusers are doing fantastic I know what they did I know what I became under pressure, to save myself I became ten times as fantastic as them as they'll ever be I could carry their burdens walking on razor blades and I have, and I'll do it again
I watched myself die Played it over and over Scanned it for all the little details How did this happen When did this happen Why did this happen I saw myself fall away Saw the parts of me I loved, leave And the parts of me I hated, grow I became super human Able to shape-shift I could break, shatter and crumble And still come back together You couldn’t see the cracks But it took all of my efforts To keep from falling apart again I wept through the seams I sewed And said it was sweat and maybe it was After all I was working so hard To keep track of all the pieces I had left of me, the pieces I didn’t lose when I watched myself die
i’d really love to thank her for being so, so strong. for not taking our life when everything was wrong. i don’t know how she did it, the flashbacks paralyze me still. must have been nothing less than strength of will. even sometimes now i’d really like to back out but i hear that small girl screaming, “we can’t just give up now!”
It still haunts and keeps me anxious when silence comes in the form of uninvited guests at night, invoking the sense of melancholy deeply; like a salt rubbed on a fresh wound. Part of me still wishes to turn back the time and rewrite the story, part of me aches for TABULA RASA~ a state of blank mind. And part of me is still reeling on the nightmares which was my reality; while I was still trying to hold a grip over my sanity. Monster exist in humans and sometime they're insidious like cancer. They eat you slowly while you're still unaware of the symptoms that you had to compromise with. The more you compromised and adjusted, the more it gave them the chance to deteriorate your worth. I wore a smile and wore my mask of resilience so well that silently I bore the pain, while I was dying inside, yet nobody could see it with naked eyes. And yet, I was blamed for all the repercussions I had to deal with. And while the monster lurks around freely, I still walk on the path courageously, with fear but I'll keep walking on, even if it means to be alone. Freedom is a lonely road. 👣
" You are so brave and quiet I forgot you are suffering. " ~ Ernest Hemingway
this is not fair. this is not fair. i can't be there. i can't breathe air. i can't help bear the weight she wears. i want to share. she knows i care, but she's aware i can't be there. this is not fair this is not fair
my love, the world has given you so much pain. i can't bear it for you and it breaks me to watch. but i will crawl with you i will stumble with you i will fight with you and i will pray with you. i wouldn't blame you if you kept your eyes closed the rest of your life, but i promise with everything in my soul that if you decide to open them, i will be the first thing you see
My then boyfriend Now husband Never forgave you for putting your hand on my thigh, Casually mentioning the ******* beaches in the south of France. Your daughter needed a chaperone on your family’s upcoming vacation.
You went and I stayed of course The ******* beach all the poorer for my absence.
I am not the kind of girl who Finds herself at Disney Paris at the end of the movie. That’s not the way this movie ends, anyhow.
12 years later One lung lighter Tens of millions denser and poised to send your daughter to Dartmouth Or Tulane Or anywhere she’d rather.
She’ll have everything the world could offer her In exchange for her father.
A parent shouldn’t have to know.
So I forgave you the hand thing And the lewdness of a drunken survivor Poised on the lip of an ever-widening hole.
If you asked to take me now, I think I’d go. I’ve always wanted to see the Louvre. I can almost hear it: The clicking heels and murmurs, Your overwrought humanities professor explanations of this or that and me humoring you with appropriate reverence as always, And the dead certain silence of the thing we will not speak about, Pointedly conspicuous in its absence, Filling the space between.
Dedicated to my friend John, a mesothelioma survivor. This is my 100th published poem on HelloPoetry
It's in the struggle of achieving dreams where adversity introduces a man to himself. Those are the same moments where you brawl with the inadequacies that plague you. The grotesque sight of failed expectations and debacles that burden your mental like a clogged bathtub.
I've met myself on many occasions in the heat of adversity. Each man different than the last, because I rejected each mediocre version of myself and demanded more - better! I have done this until there was no more to meet.
I can't tell you who I am, but for the first time in many moons...I have met the person I worked so hard to be and just for a brief moment, I can finally be content with who I am.