As a child I used to hide from monsters under my sheets -
They weren’t under the bed, they were in the kitchen.
I could hear the echoes of their whispers curl round the edges of the door.
They‘d often push it open a crack.
I’d pretend to be asleep - that’s where I felt safest;
Sometimes I’d convince myself I really wasn’t conscious.
They’d slither away when they saw no light in my eyes to extinguish.
But they’d always leave the door open.
I used to watch the light from outside fight the shadows
I used to urge it to win.

By the crack of the door
I would crouch and listen  
And what I heard
Was my mother weeping,
“I wish my daughter would change.”
I stayed quiet so she wouldn’t hear me.
Every night, I got quieter still
Until she began to say instead,
“I wish my daughter would speak.”
And I wished I could give her what she wished for
But she didn’t understand
That it had been easy for me to **** her daughter
But seemed nearly impossible to build her a new one.

Things changed for me then -
I grew tired of watching the light try to harness and tame the darkness
(Or maybe the other way around).
I’d before felt things were black and white.
I’d seen the darkness as evil
And longed for the light,
But as time went on I learned that demons lurk in all wavelengths.
I was fickle; I flocked to the winning side.
I became convinced that darkness was safety,
That in it I could project what I wanted.
Then whenever they’d move away from the door
I’d tiptoe to close it.

“Those pretty little stars,”
Their jagged tendrils blinding,
Etched patterns on the water writhing -
You can never see beside me,
Always will strain behind me.
I see all alone.

My spine warped from prostration
I will kneel, passive, before them.
I pray you won’t, callous, contour them -
You shouldn’t even try to look.
Their power straight through my soul shook
A hole.  “Steady the boat.”

I know most while here don’t think about their epitaphs,
But I’d like something on my stone to make your future lovers laugh -
You can tie me in a short black dress to lay my body down below
Have me face down so you can’t see the sunburn; call me beautiful.
I can’t attest to any wave that didn’t make me stutter
But remember swearing at the sea to try to make it pull me under.
Not another soul existed, ‘twas only she and I -
But we merged to one and every sun stopped fast to watch my alibi.
The moon was steady, gaze was hot but her winds were running cold
And they bore down on the mountains till those couldn’t help but fold;
They bowed before her, bent and broke, their last moments so tall
And I only glanced, intruding, trying just to understand it all.
I don’t believe they knew that she was cause of all the pressure
Only thought she let them rise again and fight the falling, fresher;
But my learned eye had far more sight than any man could see -
I imagine this she found a threat when her light was washing over me
So when I drifted further out, intent to meet them ‘fore they died
And floated in them aimlessly, I saw up front their sacrifice.
She spoke to me, “A stagnant sea would mean a certain death,”
Claimed ends would justify the means so long as she was still at rest.
To her I called, “You’re above it all, but the pull’s more than the push,
And I know what waits for me at shore but your nature leaves me in no rush.”
And now you’ll find me, stiff and damp and stinking of decay
But at least I got to end before my living body felt that way.

Do you think she’ll witness my downfall
When she goes to hell?
Do you think she’ll feel the anguish of empathy?
Do you think she’ll find a way to introspect
Instead of projecting?
That would cause her suffering.
I won’t be grouped in with fools
Who discharge ressentiment
With dreams of those who’ve wronged them
Suffering more than they have...
But I know it must discharge somewhere.
What constrains me?
The stunted superego
Suffocates the id
Holds it down and kicks it;
A child beaten
Tells itself
It doesn’t want to hurt its family
Until the day it’s realized
That it can’t.
And then, its spirit broken
Lays dormant, a pressure cooker
Tells itself it doesn’t want to rise
To cope with having fallen.
It stays silent and still long after left
Alone.
Retreated so far into itself
That now it fails to recognize
The threat is gone –
The abuse goes on
Long beyond it’s ended.
She told me she loved my poetry,
That I inspired her to write
About her father.
I should have seen it coming then
It was no different from before -
I let myself be used again
I have no excuse.

I told myself I wanted all of her
But I never wanted her blame shifting
Her gaslighting
Her traumatic bonding
Her disorientation
Her playing the victim
Her cruelty
To happen
And it would be easier to cope with
If it actually hadn't.

It would've been easier
If I'd been the crazy one
Because then I might've had the power to fix it
If again I could go back to the time
When I clung to her lap
And she ran her fingers through my hair
And said, "Your head's really ****** up, isn't it?"

If I could go back to my "data acquisition"
And be okay when she refused to give me answers
When she refused to tell me what we were
Or if I meant a thing to her
So I couldn't hold her to expectations
Or have them
Because I meant nothing to her
But she couldn't tell me that until I tried to end it
She just let me say "I love you," and didn't say it back
(Except for the few times she slipped just to keep me trapped).

She told me that it was all in my head
And then that I wasn't imagining anything
In the same paragraph.
She told me she was "over this"
But wouldn't tell me what "this" was
When I was the one crushed under it.
She let me chase that conversation
And played with me
And told me, "You're just going to have to be confused then.
This is my straight forward response.
The truth is, I'm sorry but you will have to deal with it."
But I didn't want to deal with it.
I just had to.
And all I wanted was the truth
But I still don't have it
And I don't know how it can stare her in the face
And she can still deny it

I don't get how she can torture me for months
And not have the decency to say, "Yeah, I did it,"
So I can rest.
I don't get why I still need her validation
Why I still tried so desperately to get it
Why the army behind me isn't enough

But it has to have something to do with her saying,
"I am not your ex. I am nothing like your ex.
You need to be able to collect the data in front of you and dissociate from past trauma.
Seriously,"
Every time I tried to defend myself from her actions
Until I stopped trying because I was too busy trying to analyze my own
Or, "You tell me all your thoughts,
I go through them with you
Confirming. Or. Denying."
Like she was the omniscient authority
The objective standard by which the validity of my feelings and perceptions were measured.

I think it's because
It'd be easier to cope with
If it hadn't actually happened,
So I convinced myself it wasn't happening
And I'm still struggling to believe it.
It'd be easier
If it was all in my head
Because then I'd have something to be certain of
(Even if it was only my uncertainty)

And I wouldn't have to admit to myself
That I was in love with a sociopath.
I wouldn't have to wonder
Whether or not she did it on purpose.
I wouldn't have to face the fact that I feel abused and broken
And empty
And like there's a hole in me I'm not sure how to fix
That I allowed to be drilled there.

Well I said, “Are you sure,”
And you said, “Doesn't matter,”
But I can't seem to remember what that means
So I didn't look back
And I spent all your money
On a tank full of gasoline

When that had run out I left my last measly dime
In a cab out on first street where I left my mind
In a cheap motel room with a **** who would find
I'd be gone in the morning, not a dollar behind
She'd be paid in a song that she's too good to hear
On an old mixed tape for the next one

Well I have to say I believed every word
And remember your face turning gray when you heard
That I'd be leaving next Tuesday but soon would return
And you needn’t wait up for long

All the ******* you spat about loving your life
And the stories of your ex at home sharp’ning the knife
I can’t say I wasn't convinced but you had a few tells
I was too dumb to see

Now I'll make a living staring out at the pier
Writing dumb ****** songs of how it was with you here
And you can find someone who has common sense
And  find out just how much they'll put up with
But when the curtain falls and our time has run out
Maybe backstage again you'll let me taste your mouth
But just in the corner so no one can see
When you're in the “bathroom” and I'm being me

And I wonder if I'll ever write a love song again
And if what we had was just a lie
Or if maybe she wears better lipstick than me
Or if there's anything special you see in her eyes

Does she write you poetry and let you read it?
Does she draw a little worse than you?
Can she keep up with words like “perception” and know something’s wrong like I used to?

Or does she just not mind when you're high?
Does she not even care what you do in your life?
Does she give you pills with poison inside
And tell you that it'll be fun?
Well she's the one, isn't she
She's a real ******* keeper
You don't ever let her go
Because that's what you want, someone who doesn't care
And I'm not sure of the point when I started to know

What do you need me to prove to you?
I said what I meant but didn't mean what I said
The truth is my words escape me in eruptions

They're forced back down and they burn my throat
My heart frays my vocal chords
The ceilings collapse, but the doors slam closed
So nobody seems to notice

What do you need me to say to you?
That you're better than this?
You're not better than this.

Only fifteen minutes, a quarter to the hour
It's not pessimistic, there's no liquid at all
The glass is made to shatter the second it falls.