He made sure I knew just how lucky I was to have him
But he never hit me
He played games with my emotions repeatedly
But he never hit me
He made sure I didn’t leave the house in a skirt above the knees
But he never hit me
He knew the words to say to make me feel so small that I could not breathe
But he never hit me
He tossed me in and out, in and out, until my mind was in an out of control tizzy
But he never hit me
He messed around on the side late at night while I rested in our bed
But he never hit me
He made it clear that I wasn’t to go out at night with the girls
But he never hit me
He told me over and over again just how hard it would be to find anyone else to deal with me
But he never hit me
He fell asleep safe and sound as I laid in bed trying to catch my breath through tears
But he never hit me
He needed to have the password to every device, app and account
But he never hit me
He knew the power he held and used it over my head to weaken me
But he never hit me
He made jokes at my expense in front of friends and family and we all giggled together instead of cringed
But he never hit me
He assured me the women he texted were coworkers or colleagues but I could never know what they spoke of
But he never hit me
He made it clear that my interests and goals were not of pertinence
But he never hit me
He knew the exact words to say to take my entire day downhill
But he never hit me
He broke my heart over and over and over again until it was minuscule shreds
But he never hit me

If you or someone you know is suffering from domestic abuse please contact 1-800-799-7233 this is the national domestic abuse hotline. Abuse can happen to anyone, man or woman. It does not make you weak to seak help. <3

Today is the day
National mental health day
One of the many days I regret

I should speak out
I want to
But my mental illness has me chained
So instead I pull
Pull my way closer
But the chains keep me back

Closer to the truth
Closer to the hesitation

For me, pulling is my release
I read online that the rough ones-
With black bulbs were bad ones
The “wicked witch” ones
So I started

Pulling out my fears,
From my head- one by one

Until I laid there helpless
In a cloud of my mistakes
Somehow seeing all my worries in front of me didn’t make them go away

Instead, I became more aware
More aware of my failures
For the unknown future that lies in store
One by one

October 23, 2016
I kept the receipts
A friend- not a close one, more of those friends of friends
She chose me to tell her story to
She was raped
By a guy we all knew and trusted
A “good guy”
I lent her an ear, or rather a willing text
I thanked her for her bravery
For allowing me to be a small fraction of her story of overcoming
I might be one of twenty she told, or maybe just two

I don’t know. I may never know.
But what she may not know is that night
She became my one
Someone I knew almost nothing about
I told her my story and asked how she told her first

I hoped of getting some of her strength through some sort of Twitter DM telepathy
Alas you can’t gift strength like that
Oh God, I wish you could
I go back and read those messages all the time trying

I read my TimeHop every day
Sometimes for the memories
But more often than not they bring back the nightmares
I do it for the relief
The streak number tick ticking higher
Counting the days that have gone by
Or the hairs I’ve pulled

Tomorrow is National Coming Out Day
Is there a day like this for those who came out to their loved ones about their mental illness?
I will also not be participating.
My mental illness is keeping me from doing so
I am buried deep in my closet, hiding under clothes and forgotten tags
My fingers raking through the carpet
Finding that momentary release
The glorious relief lasting a moment
I run my fingers through the rough fibers searching for more

My family doesn’t know
Or if they do, they don’t want to break our perfect mold
I pull discretely
Around my head, just a receding hairline, no bald patches

I never get my haircut
At least, by a professional
The last time I went, my stylist said it was new growth
Not my past coming to haunt me.
She pulls at them showing me, calling them baby hairs
How do I tell her that each one represents shame, frustration, guilt
Each one represents one party, one good time with friends I’ve missed
Hiding behind those fears, covered in guilt
Back in my closeted mind

Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if I cut myself open
Would blood run out or the words I meant to say?
When it’s a bad day, I pull at large sections of my hair
Wondering what it would be like to rip it all out in two sections
It makes me cry in pain, but the voices tell me about the sweet relief it may bring
I almost give in

What hurts me the most is noticing the people around me who have it
Does the girl sitting in front of me know
One day she may have to get surgery
To remove the hairball in her stomach from eating at her hair?
I see her run it through her lips, feeling the same texture.

Does the boy, scratching away at his knuckles
Understand what’s underneath his skin?
I wonder what his blood would say
Would it tell my story?
Would it tell ours?

*trigger warning*

Eat touch has me addicted,
Each pill has a grasp on my mind,
Another sip of burning rum had my thirst for freedom; quenched.

The physical destruction that my addiction gave me,
Was as pleasing as the silence they brought to my troubled mind.  

A ghost caress from a non lover,
Has already won me over and put me off the edge,
My body a canvass for abuse.

Medication that saves me but doesn’t fulfill all my needs,
So I take more than prescribed, allowing the overrunning to be silenced.

Too many glasses to count is just the right amount,
It sends a hum throughout my body,
And I find myself in a better fantasy than the last.

Each one of my addictions have become a part of me.
Everyone one knows me for them,
No one has ever seen my without them,
They brand me like a product.

Sex leaves me sore for days,
Mecation leaves me in a haze,
And Liquor blesses me with forgetting my pain.

Never fall in love with an artist.
They'll break your heart
and turn your pain
into art.

- k.m.

churns up from nowhere
no warning systems for this type of storm
it bursts through the thin fabric
separating now from the past
the darkness
it is still very close
last night
it wore heels and was daubed with red lipstick
clicking along the linoleum
rapping out a familiar tattoo
banging at the scars in my head


when you think you are safe
the nightmares are still very close at times
Wyatt Sep 21

Years ago I'm sure I put this down on paper. These same feelings were felt once before I'm sure. It probably happened back when I was younger, it's meaning probably went right over my head. I was too young to know what "it" was. I was probably blissfully unaware of how important that feeling was. It was as devastatingly crucial as a warning siren sounding off for a deaf man, or frantic movements performed for one with no eyes. I probably even shrugged it off as an irrelevant afterthought as I returned to seclusion and pointless walks. Who in their right mind ignores the warning signs?

Another instance of it happened after years passed, this time it went straight through my heart and built a place of shelter. It stayed with me. It made sure to come with a loud voice and a microscope. It watched carefully and made sure to sound off screeches of distaste for everything I did. I had lower self-esteem, I finally bought into the idea that I wasn't headed in the right direction after I was speeding down it for three years. It's a no-brainer to get lost when you forgot the map, being this mindless comes with a cost. You don't carry a title, you are a slave to your past mistakes. They build up so you can't see over the wall. I have flashbacks that remind me of those exact warning signs I could have avoided. A mixture of pure uneasiness with a taste of panic. This could have been avoided, but sadly the key-word in my life has always been "could"...and reality's word is "won't".

I'm sure I've written about this feeling before, so blissfully unaware of where these warning-signs were all taking me.

cassie sky Sep 20

When you’re looking back
It's quite easy to say
I've made it so far
No more troubles on the way

But the moon warns otherwise
When she is wearing crimson
Err on the side of the wise
Pay attention to warnings given

Lest ye not want to survive
She, being the great mother
Is not attempting to connive
So long as you are not a bother

She doesn't take so kindly
To those who wish to harm
To hate, to destroy so blindly
Anyone or thing under her loving arm

To see blood on our mother moon
Is a sign of trouble not far behind
To listen close won't make you a lune
Though to obsess could do so in time

Rebecca H Sep 15

We've been warned of bad people
ever since we were little.
We've all learned that we shouldn't trust
a creepy man who offers candy if you'll only get into his truck.

But nobody's ever warned us of

The boys with dangerously glittering eyes,
who will pepper you with affection only to
put a bullet in your heart.

Nobody's ever warned us of

The girls wearing mean smirks like armour,
who will laugh at you when you walk by and
make you feel so insecure.

Nobody's ever warned us of

The wounds that were bound to open in our chests,
which won't disappear in an instant
if at all.

Nobody's ever warned us of


- there are some things people will never tell you -
rom Sep 13

a warning comes from the flashing screen
and the window shakes as the lightning crashes
it remains intact.
the hurricane continues to whip up debris
now tearing down homes
tearing my home
tearing you down –
the wind is screaming.

you should have listened to the flashing screen.

how we never listen until it finally happens and it's too late (drabble lol)
Viola Apr 20

raped before the age of seven
I lost my faith that day
told that I couldnt get in to heaven
because I had sex before marriage
I was a child thinking I had a miscarriage
because the toilet and my panties were blood red from where my hymen bled
and I shed my virginity and a tear
and everytime I walked in that bathroom I had fear
when I was naked I felt afraid
when I laid in my bed at night
I would close the door tight
I didnt want a sliver of light coming in
because anybody could creep in on a whim
That day changed me forever
I will never forget it
and I will always regret it
when he asked do you want to play a game
I said yes and expressed excitement and delightment
but that moment should have been his indictment
there should have been punishment and violence
but instead there was shushing and silence
in my head the blood is rushing inside of me
as I share this memory
I see the face of my enemy
dressed as a clown on halloween
and I want to scream.
but this isnt something to shout about
but im angry about it everyday
and im still hurting in every way
because Im not certain
the pain goes away
and inside I die
knowing that im not right

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