1. you are the first person i want to write about, even now. i could spend hours scribbling out shaky sentences about you and your wolf grin. it's like i enjoy self-sabotage; you are the one thing i don't want to think about, but the only thing i can. i guess this may just be how the brain works.
2. for so long, the poetry felt like a gift for you. look at this, it seemed to cry, look at me still thinking about you. does that make you happy that you're still my muse? i want to say that now it is a gift for myself and my battered heart. it is how i let the pain out so it doesn't kill me.
3. last week, when your username flashed across my screen, i had an anxiety attack. i hadn't spoken to you in months. it made me realize that i had forgotten about you long enough for a reminder to make my hands shake and my throat clench. but i had forgotten, and that's what matters.
4. the thought of seeing you again doesn't make me want to throw up anymore. that doesn't mean i won't vomit when you show up, but at least i'm not crouching over a toilet at the idea of it.
5. i used to say you were toxic. it took me a long time to realize you had been more than just a bout of food poisoning. you were like too much to drink. you were like the robber smashing through my bedroom window. you were like the monster under the bed. you left me shaken and scared to touch a glass. to leave the window cracked on a hot night. to go to sleep without checking behind my bed skirt.
6. you were abusive. and i think i had been saying you were without really realizing it. i think it took a lot longer for the after of us to hit than i thought it would. i thought the worst of it had passed, but i was wrong. the worst of it is here, now. because this is the happiest i've been and it's because you're not here and that, that is why. i thought you would be here for this. i didn't think it would be because you're not.
7. but i can say it now. i can say you were abusive and there's a weight behind it. i don't just say it in my poetry because i think it sounds more powerful. now, i say it because i can't not say it. i can't ignore it when it spends its time staring me in the face. i have to face it, i think. i have to say it enough times so that eventually, i can acknowledge the storm you brought to me without wanting to find shelter. eventually, i will no longer even feel the rain.
-c.h.
~
thoughts? let me know!
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how the words come
Poetry"this is the poetry that has come from finally realizing it is okay to be okay but also not okay at the same time." ~ 'how the words come' tells the story of overcoming the aftermath of an emotionally abusive relationship. the book is separated into...
