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me, after going five days feeling good: maybe…I am… Recovered™…?
me, crashing down on a trigger the very next day: oh
You sure it wasn’t just a shitty relationship? He asks.
I answer the boy’s question with well-practiced silence.
Give into the chokehold of this quiet dehumanizing moment I had grown so used to by now.
Whisper to my body: you know what to do.
Succumb to the numbness, lose yourself to him all over again.
I remember seeing my abuser across the train platform
the way my silence met his.
the fear twisting itself between my ribs as he grinned at me,
asked if I missed him
I watched the anger flash across his face as my silence met his rage.
I got on the next train and physically collapsed,
had a panic attack that lasted an hour.
Didn’t speak for the rest of the day.
baby I can’t bear the thought of letting you down. you’re the one I dress up for, the one I cry in secret for. i don’t call you when the world is crumbling because I want you to believe that I’m successful and beautiful and strong. whenever I love someone new, I hide every breakdown like a secret shame. I know if you found out how frightened I actually am, you’ll leave. they always do. believe me, lover. I know how this story goes.
Kim Addonizio, from ‘Blues for Roberto’, What Is This Thing Called Love: Poems
here darling. summer isn’t so bright this year so come lean on my shoulder and baptise your sorrows in the valleys of my body. I know you’re crumbling under the weight of it all so lean on me until you’re strong enough to walk again. some flowers don’t have sturdy stems, and that’s okay. doesn’t make them any less beautiful, right? let my arms be your peace until the world outside stops sounding so much like violence, the chaos and busyness of it all. come, my love. mind over matter. you’ll start feeling like yourself again, I promise. love is being the hook, line and sinker. love is being the fish and the fisherman. love is knowing that sometimes it isn’t 50/50, that sometimes I must give more than I take. but love is also knowing you’d do the same for me any day of the week.
self destruction is an interesting thing!
womanhood is so divine. the world attempting to desecrate and compartmentalise it only makes me realise how holy my body is. every scar and curve and pore and hair. there is genesis between my legs. godliness. life that brings life. how dare you attempt to spit upon scripture. how dare you attempt to destroy something you can’t touch.
come teach me why flowers grow better with blood-based fertiliser. come bury me in the ripe plum of your body, tangle around me like ivy. see, im so tired of dragging around this empty casket of a mind. see, i know I shouldn’t but baby, I’m fucking hopeless over you.
classycreeps
love you all it means the world anybody reads my stuff!!!!
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