Issues that matter: emotional abuse


I did not leave you. I climbed up through your throat and out of your mouth for your stomach acids were burning me alive. To say I left would be to imply it was by choice, but instead it was a push with two strong arms while your lips screamed “Come back” how can I survive while I am under attack? I couldn’t. So I slid through the cracks of the cage where you locked but set aflame leaving me to smolder into ash.

Please, by all means, crucify the slave for running away, nail her to the crosswalk and tell her you appreciate her but at very least comprehend the precise amount of fucked up that is. Stop pretending what you did was okay.

I had to start showing you the blistering bruises and battered blue marks that were lining my arms like tattoos because you acted as if I were made of a strong steel that you could beat, and burden, at your blackened heart’s every whim.

You would wake up and forget I was sickened with your poison.

Before I knew I was worthy and valuable, I would keep my wounds on my inner thighs, masking the slashes on my soul and the marks on my mind- I was a canvas of blood and bone open for interpretation of you and only you
I wrote poetry of apologies and songs of sorrys for mistakes that were human and righteous

I played games of shame and ate food of blame I was so sorry for every move I would ever make
And now you stand here, pretending you are Jesus Christ; forgiving me for all my sins, but dear, I did not leave you.
I clambered out of the hell you deviously called heaven

I erased the words of the letters I wrote to you apologizing for making you cry

A man with two arms versus woman with half a heart is hardly a battle. One will love and one will die so my love,

I did not leave you.

I made a run for it.


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