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Claudius Aug 2018
He was mad again.
I could hear it in the way he answered the phone with a stern "Hello."
I didn't understand
"What did I do?"
"It's fine," he repeated over and over
Yet, it was not fine.
As the call ended and my cheeks continued to stain with dry tears just like every time before.
I never understood
It felt like I was drowning
Like I had dug my own emotional grave and didn't notice it was already seven feet deep.
yet, he said he loves me...

Is this love?

Yet, you don't tell me you love me
But, it feels like you love me more than he ever will
Yet I stayed with the other
Even though he makes me cry
Even though there are nights I cannot recall and bruises that seem to stay even after they have faded away
Maybe I told you that I loved him because it was easier than admitting I was scared
Maybe I told you I loved him because it was easier than asking for help
Maybe I told you I loved him because it was true...
...but deep down we both knew.
Something I never admitted. There are nights I wish I could forget and nights I really wish I could remember
Dani Apr 5
Why do you haunt me ghost
Lingering, lurking, and watching your host
Around every joyful corner you linger
From every happy window you watch
And from ever peripheral shadow you lurk
You do not own me
Yet you dangle a key
As if to show my captivity
In chains I am bound
As memories fly around
Nightmare is a better name
For this haunting game
Day lit terrors before my eyes
Sunny momentarily, til you cover the skies
A dark lit confusion
Met with desperation

All the unspoken screams
Still rattle in my head
Fear fills what were once dreams
Panic now owns my bed
A bed I wish to share
With kindness and love
But you lay there and stare
J Mar 26
I've had
****.
Not ***
Not love-making
Not consensually.
I've been
******.
*****.
abused.
taken advantage of.
whatever it is you want to call it
I've had it done.
I've been kissed
Fingered
choked
hit
spit on
spit in
I've been held,
hostage
with knives against my throat
guns to my head,
in my mouth
drugs down my throat
barely conscious I've been
******.
I've been in love
I've been heartbroken
I've been touched
consensually,
let me tell you about the consensually.
I've been kissed in the bathroom, lifting
her
up against the wall
laughing when our teeth brushed against
one another's
hands fumbling up a skirt
around a throat
fingers tangled in wavy hair.
I've been touched sitting in her lap
outside on a hot day
wearing her hoodie
around children
freshmen year.
I've been touched
multiple times
by him
in band rooms, away from prying eyes
secrets to be kept and wooed over
laying in a dress
during a concert event
head in the lap of my best friend
underwear brushed to the side
fingers thrusting in
and yes, this was consentually.
I've been touched
in the school hallways
every day after school or in between classes
tasted and tasted
he tasted me
I tasted myself.
And in the living room of our best friend's house
even though I told him no
I told him the safe word
he continued.
I say it was consensual because in the end,
I said I loved it.
Don't argue about it.
I wanted it.
and I've been touched
in her pool
heated ever so lovingly
LED lights danced us into the temptation
as did the alcohol on my part
with her lips against my chest
desperate to mark, yet not to show
i mean, hey, my step-dad's homophobic
though I'd love nothing more than to show who I belong to.
We switched a lot, but ultimately I landed in her lap
water licking up my sides,
sending chills to *******
goosebumps
and her fingers hesitating
not daring to touch.
"i'm going to need a yes."
finally.
Finally asked.
I nodded eagerly
and she treated me like a piano
perfect notes
though brief I know that I was
drenched in all ways
the chlorine water yes
and of course the obvious.
you see, we were going to do something that night
we had the chance to
I wanted to
she wanted to
In the end,
she took something for her headache
though it was a sort of
similar thing to Nyquil
We were going to.
But we laid in bed
and we molded against each other
and sailed asleep.
I've slept with one person.
Her
Sydney
My Muse.
But Still, A ******
am I
tia Mar 21
gun in hand
trigger in mind
let's **** things up, alright?

"help me, help me!"
im stubborn as all hell
so forget my inner pleas or i'll say farewell

you wish to love me with such sweet words
but **** it's too ******* late
so let's just indulge in self-hate
this started out different but then i decided, **** it lets make it energetic.
Evie Helen Mar 13
When I see the news stories
And read the vile comments
I’m reminded of my own
And how for him it’s past tense
But for me and for them
It’s every day
We live with that pain and that shame and that
Way of surviving
Like no one ever ripped out your heart
Like your dignity wasn’t stripped from you
Disbelieved in court
Ridiculed on Facebook
And ******* about in bars
‘This tortures him too’
‘He’s always been fine with me’
That’s what we hear when we try to seek
Validation from those who know our abusers
scepticism and the audacity to accuse us
Of being dramatic, of lying, exaggeration
Well tell me where is the dramatisation
In the fact that in my story when he was done
He wrote ‘No’ on my wall in permanent marker
To reminded him that next time ‘No’ is the answer
Like he should need reminding when he heard it from me
But I am a woman, was a girl
So you see
What I do doesn’t matter
Which sadly is proved
When today we read of Sarah Everard in the news
anna Jan 1
I’m too scared to get up. I can’t do anything. I can’t move. I’m sitting at the floor of my bathroom. I’m kind of crying, but not, like, bawling. Just shedding tears.

I get up and go to my room. I’m too scared to take off my clothes. I do it anyway but it takes so long. I put on warm clothes even though everyone else is wearing shorts and a t shirt. I stand up and want to go out the door, but I can’t.

I step out the door into the hallways and see a dark red carpet stretched out along the floor and everything is dark and ***** and big.

I look around and realize everything reminds me of different things and I see many different pictures in my head. I can’t hear anything and my mind is dizzy. I stand there to let the movies pass. I walk downstairs and feel dizzy. I just feel dizzy. My brain feels ice cold and hot tingles at the base of my brain. Almost like the feeling of extreme embarrassment.

It’s hard to let my chest rise and fall. I’m not thinking like this because I’m sad, but I just think it would be easier if I didn’t breathe at all. Or if I just died right here.
I’m staring outside and my vision seems to jiggle. It’s hard to breathe. My heart is pounding in my head and throat.
I wrote this right after I had possibly the biggest panic attack I’ve ever had. Now that I read it a year later, I think it’s beautiful and hauntingly sad.
GQ James Dec 2020
You are a trigger for me,
When I'm around you I feel different,
Than when I'm not around you,
My world feels much different when I'm alone,
That energy we share doesn't feel good,
That pain is sharper than a blade,
The space just doesn't feel comfortable.

I don't feel at home but I feel homeless,
Being in a house ain't the same as being at home,
Our home has been burned down to ashes,
The flames burn sharply,
The ashes are burned to crisp,
Our lives haven't been the same.

You can't rebuild the house,
The house has been destroyed,
You can't even recognized things the same,
When you look at it things aren't what they use to be,
What's broken can't be fixed.
THE HOUSE IS BURNED AND CAN'T BE REBUILT.
Artemis Morris Dec 2020
I avoid my reflection because the person who looks back at me is pale and looks dead
The body I once saw looking back at me no longer feels like my own
At 3am I am standing there staring with my hand tracing my skin
I wonder why Ive never felt like my body was home
Because my reflection is no longer mine it belongs to you
The demons in my head
Food is scary and the thought of it makes me sick
When I don't eat the person staring back at me morphs again
To be someone who's dropped weight and needs to eat more
But I can't bring myself to
Because if I do the person looking back changes soon after
And I haven't figured out how to look back at them
I can't identify with the person in that mirror and I can't remember a time I have
They've always looked back at me different
And Ive never seen life in those eyes
Maybe one day it'll change and maybe it wont
But for now I avoid my reflection
Because I'm scared of who looks back
Tw// Mentions of food and eating disorders
-> To clarify: I'm professionally diagnosed, not self diagnosed, and have been for almost 2 years, and this is my own experiences and will not be the same for everyone. I've had therapy and blood tests and I'm recovering slowly but surely. I'm diagnosed with (severe) Body Dysmorphia and my relationship with food is greatly damaged, but I'm looking into getting professional help in a ward when I finish school next year.

Thank you for reading :)
Nuala Nov 2020
Can you hear me, can you feel me?
You can feel me
purple spiderwebs mark my *******
proving that you can
so if you can feel me why can't you hear me
i think i said no
i said no
but you're invading me still
unwelcomed visitor.
I closed the door and you don't have a key.
but you don't require one, do you
you have a lockpick. a lockpick on each finger.
the skeleton key on your tongue.
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