I still can feel it when I close my eyes.
When I sleep, I am
trapped in a translucent space
where memories meet nightmares,
and it always lingers when
I wake.
The shame burns my insides
worse than any anger could
because even the nightmare
version ofyou
still gaslights me.
I have spent years building a persona
that projects strength so that
I can convince everyone
I would never have let that happen to me.
I am still trying to convince myself
because it's too painful.
Abuse is a ***** word and the others
that follow feel
even
dirtier than what
you did to me.
I feel complicit.
I'm a co-conspirator in my own worst
living memory nightmares.
I was weak.
I said yes when I wanted to say no.
I gave in
again and
again and
again.
If my nightmares were a scene from a movie,
I would, on split screen, have
grabbed my own hand
and tugged myself into my own
horror, "it'll be okay, Meghan."
My subconscious is unrelenting,
unforgiving,
incomprehensible, undeniable
you are a
[stupiduglyworthlessspineless]
victimscratch that
survivorscratch that
human ^tortured
by yourselfscratch that
him.
Ididthistomyselfscratch that
He did this to me.
pain sleep nightmares memories abuse trauma selfdoubt shame
