Dear mom, I sit here, my heart broken and even from heaven or hell, not sure which one, you are still breaking my heart, i am still finding out the deep damage you did to me, still discovering the depth of your abuse and neglect. Since you passed, I have come to some important revelations.TW.... 1.. You not only knew about my pedophile father, you used me to keep him interested in you, you let him watch us shower and flirt with him in front of me so you could get the love you deserved. 2...The reason you hated me was your husband wanted me more, pursued me and you hated me for taking him away even though you insisted i spend time with him. 3..Your words, retard mistake ungrateful klutz ungrateful bit*h, are all you left me with, you did not leave me with a family, you pushed them away so i llost them too, you did not leave me with my stepfather because you convinced me i was a flirt so much i flirted with him and we will never be us again, you left me with this endless hole i and no else can fill because you were supposed to fill it with praise, cuddles, unconditional love, something you did not give me unless it benefited you. 4...My sister was your do over, you protected her to a fault. you gave her a safe dad who loved her, you encouraged her to be a model. an actress, a writer, whatever she wanted to be and she still got hurt by your brutal words and neglect. Sitting here I know you are with my dear Hannah and that is not fucking fair, but one thing i learned from the way you raised me, the way you protected me is life is never fucking fair, it just is what is, well life with you was a living hell mom and that is just what it is, i miss who could've been for me, i miss foolishly believing you were an innocent bystander not a participant in my sexual abuse,i miss who i thought you were, a dear mom to me. Love hate Teleah
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recovering from csa and the struggle of accepting it and coping with the aftermath
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Two nights ago was bad, i had a young visitor, Theresa, she is seven and is a part of me, we have met before but this time she came with pictures, pictures of her, of me at seven, these pictures showed me at seven , she is smiling at the camera, her big brother next to her trying to look cool, her father next to her smiling proudly with a loving arm wrapped around my beautifyul beaming mom, i just smiled when she showed me these pictures, thanked her for showing me i had good times as a little girl but then she handed me another stack of pictures of me in a basement, my eyes watering, a look of dread on her face, lifting the same dress in the happy pictures, showing her panties then the other pictures show me undressing eyes dead now, my smile gone now replaced by a frightened grin, Theresa gave me one last picture with shame in her eyes, a picture of her, of me twirling in my dress asking him to take my picture because i told him i was beautiful and he told me i was more beautiful under my pretty dress, once she left i self harmed pretty bad faced with the evidence she would always blame herself because of her evidence that she just wanted to be loved, her evidence that he groomed her it was wrong to want love, want pride in herself unless she was pleasing him, teleah
Last night Theresa age 7 visited me and she revealed why she believes she caused him to hurt her, showed me from her perspective, a moment that she believes changed everything. , the day she came on to her day, Easter morning.......TW, I just got a new Easter dress. white and red checked, and my mom had curled my unruly hair, i heard my dad coming so i waited for him to come in and he came in mad. yelling about how we were going to be late and get my shoes on my damn feet, so i did and then looked up and asked " Are you going to take my picture daddy ? " I asked smiling at him and he grabbed me pushing me out the door. " Later"< he snapped. i just followed him to the car , and we went to church. After church. we went to M who was having a huge dinner and after whisked me and his daughter downstairs, where M and my dad took pictures of us out of our Easter dresses through the whole ordeal, I thought this is my fault all i wanted was a picture of me in my easter dress, dad had groomed her to believe she was the reason he took the pictures, that she had asked to be assaulted by his Polaroid camera, she had asked to model herself out of her Easter dress, Theresa just wanted a dad to be proud of her but instead got one that lusted after her
Having a rough night tonight, I am trying to fight the negative voices but all I can hear, is my mom telling me I am not worth love and no one would ever love me as much as her. My heart is breaking because it hits me how no one has ever fought for me, my dad gave me away to grandpa and his friends, my stepdad did not fight for our friendship to continue or for me to be a part of his life, my mom did not fight for me, she just let dad have me for two weeks every summer even though i would come home in deep depression, my husband did not fight for me when i attempted, he did not call my therapist because he could not afford an appointment, then he left and only been back when he had to be, he still will not fight for me when i am in crisis, he will not call t or even email her, All of this is evidence for me to prove mom was right, not worthy of being loved or being happy and that having me was her biggest mistake. I have fought all my life to be worthy of love, to be worthy of being saved and all that effort had been for nothing, teleah
I was seven, it was my favorite time of the year, Christmas and we had spent three tense hours putting up the tree and it was finally time to put up the angel and my dad grabbed me, lifted me up and was leering at me, looking up my skirt, i felt the heat and shame as he took me down and my mother glared at me. The same Christmas, my dad and I somehow got in the bedroom and he wanted to TW anally rape me so he fingered me and ended up ripping me pretty bad so we ran to the grocery store for cream and when he got home, he put it on my wound and it stung like hell, then mom came home and yelled at me for rest of night blood on the sheets caused by having constipation, so these are the triggers i have to fight, christmas trees and toppers and music and Theresa hates this time of year and wants out and i am fighting so hard to forget that Christmas when I was seven. Teleah
Dear mom, happy birthday. last year was easier because i was working so hard on getting daughter through her senior year but this year, your loss has hit me like a ton of bricks and out of nowhere. I worked for 40 years to make you happy, proud of me, worthy of your praise and your love and i got nothing in return and was left with nothing except your blood money and my sister who you sheltered so much, i have had to take care of since your passing. I thought when you passed things would get easier but they are so much harder, i can see all the times you gaslit me and it hurts so bad, i can see how you made me your competition for your husband, i see where you hated me because i won him, won his sick perverted love. I am so torn whether to be happy you are gone or mourn i can never confront you, show you the damage taking care of you did to me, wonder if you can see my latest mark from where you are, see me weeping in the shower, trying not to vomit remembering him watching me, can you see that or has your God protected you from seeing me in constant purgatory ? A part of me wishes you have seen it and the other sick part of me wants to protect you still. So conflicted all the time how to feel, who to be now i am free with you not only on your birthday but all year long, love, hate, hurting teleah
I made myself go out today, no list, no errands, just go out, so there I was having a good time out and about and decided to go to a drug store to price something for daughter. so I walked in and we went to the toys because even at 18, she loves looking at toys and right in the aisle staring right at me was a display of Wendy Walkers and Theresa one of my parts, froze, no she whispered to me as i tried to push her away so i could be an adult, but she was loudly crying in my head, i took a deep breath and kept walking but now theresa is still crying so i hope sharing her trauma, she will let me sleep some tonight. Theresa was seven when she got her walking doll. Kindly and she loved her like her own, they had the same color hair, eyes, sad smile and kindly never wanted to play school so theresa always had a playmate, One day her dad came in and played tea party with theresa, theresa was so happy, her dad wanted to play with her so she set up her tea set and fed him pretend tea and cookies, during the party her dad told her kindly spilled tea on her dress so theresa went to go change her, her dad pointed out how flat Kindlys chest was and how round theresa breast were, then her dad showed theresa how useless Kindlys body was then theresas dad showed how useful theresas body was by TW...putting a hairbrush inside her, it hurt but theresa was proud her body was better than Kindly, then her dad took theresas useful hand and said it was very useful to him and once again theresa made her dad happy then she wiped her hand on his hankie and they went out of her room to eat dinner with theresas brother and theresas mother, ending theresas grooming on how to be her dads little doll.
I was !0 and maybe a month when he left, my mom and dad had been going through an violent divorce for months, he had stolen my moms favorite silverware chest the one she got as a wedding gift from her boss, a watch he had bought her when she found out he bought his mistress a fur coat with his secret checking account then he took her engagement ring and her favorite only pearl necklace she got when she graduated, so my only job was to protect grapdpa's antique tools, her one real treasure, the ones he bought before the diabetes ended his job as a construction foreman, so when dad came over and headed toward the garage, I tried to stop him, i asked him to fix my bike, i offered him a beer, but he still went and got the pipe wrench and he was standing the hallway heading out and i grabbed his hand to stop him, furiously he took my hand dragged me to the bedroom threw me on the bed where he put the pipe wrench near my head as an unspoken threat, i waited to hear what i had to do but in angry silence, he raped me for the first time, he then got up with the pipe wrench told me to wash the bloody sheet and that he was happy to be leaving his retarded daughter and her psycho wife, then left, i washed the sheet, took a scalding hot shower, got in my pajamas, waited for my mom who was mad i had let him take the pipe wrench that told me to go to my room, locked me in and let me out before bed to go potty , when i did it burned like fire but went to bed, two days later i had a serious UTI from when he left. Now so many years later, my husband goes out of town and this memory shakes me and i wonder if i will ever get over the day he left, sprry so long, thank you for reading, love teleah
Today I was trigger happy, everything triggered me, feel so defeated tonight as i attempt to go to sleep. First I woke up from a horrific nightmare that stuck with me, then got the bill for hubbys breakdown, that made me think i was at fault for calling the police and should've found him myself that night then I locked myself in my room and wept, then i picked up what i thought was an empty backpack and found condoms, triggering the preteen mr to say 10 over and over until i went to the library to proofread my novel in progress when my mom taunted me in my head, Who told you, you could write ? Quit killing trees and When are you going to give up your silly dreams of being a writer and get a real job ?
Then i went home, exhausted, defeated and my family wanted to go out for dinner, so i put on my mask and we went to dinner. Over dinner we sat by a group of mentally challenged people or as my mom used to scream at me, retard, I found myself staring at them which i hated but they triggered this ache in my heart, something i had been numb to before, but now felt so intensely i had trouble breathing, i blamed it on heartburn and finished eating as my heart was stuck when my mom would scream at me i was a retard and deserved to be institutionalized for something that angered her, my heart was remembering being called a retard most days in my childhood which i believed till i got tested at 11 when i found out i was just behind due to my seizure medication and was never considered a retard by academic standard. These emotional flashbacks caused me to feel sick, so my family had to wait for me in the car as i paced back and forth, then when i got home i curled up in a ball in my bed as my family socialized with the neighbors. After today i feel so defeated, feel like my emotional abuse will never be healed, i will never be a whole adult, so triggered to SH tonight, i want so badly to be at peace and never be triggered again, teleah
Dear Sister, You say you are proud of me how i have gotten over my past, ok really, dammit,TW... tell that to my leg that is bruised because I had a horrible flashback of my father pleasuring himself on the toliet while i took a bath, which caused me to have a dizzy attack and fall on my tubTW...., tell that to my neck that is swollen and hurt because i choked myself last night so hard just to shut up the loud littles that wanted to share their stories of horror and i just wanted to sleep, tell that to my eyes that cant seem to cry but want to all the time, tell that to my daughter who sees me struggle to live day by day. I am so happy you got to grow up with a protective loving dad but at the same time it breaks my fucking heart that i will never have that, i am grateful hat you did not grow up with my mom, who hated me because i turned her husband on and made me feel worthless, only worthy of a life in an institution, grateful but it fucking breaks my heart when you moan she got on you for your weight and thought you were a sl*t,TW.... my mom half bathed me and made me spray perfume down there so i did not stink for dates with my dad at six. I was brought up that envy was a huge sin but the envy i feel for your childhood and the fact you have him as your dad consumes me, especially when you remind me that he is still there for you and i will never have that, ever, There was a time, I turned him into a romantic lead in my life in my head so I could not feel this consuming jealousy but since mom passed and he is living with his girlfriend, i fight no longer him playing that role, it hurts so bad he is so good to you and saw me as nothing more than her daughter and maybe a friend, please try to not kick me in the fucking gut, heart anymore by telling me what a great dad he has been and is to you, teleah, nodak, theresa, and tc.
Yesterday I did not eat much, my beloved cat Hardy passed the night before after a long few days of struggling to breathe, he passed eight months after my other beloved cat Laurel passed. I have no safe place to land anymore which caused TC to come out, let me see her in her frilly pink dress with black dress shoes, I could see her sitting on my bed with me and she was bawling, I tried to comfort her but she just wept then i tried to fall asleep, lied there as she told me about her bad grandpa, the times he TW....put his hand over her mouth reeking of gasoline because i was'nt finished and he did not want my mom to know where i was or the times he made me pleasure him through his pocket, looking for a quarter is what he called it, then she told me deepest darkest fear and that was TW....that she knew he killed himself because he did'nt come visit and she did not make him happy anymore, she was convinced and told me she had heard her dad say it was her fault when her mom and dad were planning her bad grandpa's funeral, as soon as she shared this with me, i got the worse stomach pains and felt like i was going to get sick, so i sat in front of the toliet and rocked for over a half in hour, saying over and over, i am sorry, today there is a new deep sadness nestled in me, TC's sadness, Tomorrow we bury Hardy, I am scared TC will show up again and I hope tonight will not be another night with my little five year old TC, teleah
Yesterday was father's day, first year I chose not to call him or send him a card, so i tried to enjoy the freedom of not feeling obligated to honor him which went well until night thats when i turned into the good girl, the girl who always made everyone happy, first after going to flea market with family and tense ice cream, i came home. made dinner, exhausted, then instead of resting i washed his shirt to make him happy, then watched tv and then i suggested alone time, despite it being the most triggering day of the year and lead him upstairs, where like a good girl I seduced him, scratched his back , touched him ect and though parts were mutually pleasing, it hit me afterwards, the whole reason i seduced my husband is because that is how i ended fathers day up until i was twelve, pleasing my dad, making sure he was happy and i was his still. What really breaks my heart, shatters my soul what is left of it is I am still that good girl, I still want everyone to be happy and despite being married over twenty years, I am still his, i am still my dads good girl, I still hear, thats my girl, when my hubby TW.....climaxes and I know a huge part of me is, a part of my core, my sexuality is his, i was groomed to be a good girl, how to please him in sick way, affectionate ways, in every way and as long as i remember that, i am and always will be his good girl and i am not sure i can live with that cold hard truth of my life, teleah
About a month ago, I wrote a house list and everything got done, wrote a list for graduation just in case she graduated and she did, and now I feel done, I got everything I needed to get done so I can go, nothing unresolved, daughter happy, husband happy, house clean,I should be celebrating but the depression whispers, you can go now, they will be fine, you did all you could for them, you have nothing left, trying to not listen to this voice, turning the music up, but I still hear it, scared when soon the happy mask falls off, all anyone will see is the sad little girls inside me, all they will see is the broken me again, see me as not fixable as i feel right now, not sure when the mask will fall off and everyone will see the real brokenness in me, teleah
At ten, my dad had an affair with a coworker and I was the one who told her, because a little witch in class asked what an affair is, so i stupidly asked my mom and all hell broke loose and that night my dad threw my mom into a coffee table and for two days she forgot who I was so a few days later my dad moved out and I foolishly believed the violence was over, maybe I could finally be safe but then the fighting really began, my dad would come over and steal her stuff or break it as I hid in my room and waited for mom to come home to blow up at me for letting him in and threatened she would put me away for good if I let him again, so when he came over and he went in the garage I stood in front of the door, which he got open and he was carrying a pipe wrench from mom's dad and he was swinging it back and forth as he went in the hallway, I met him there and asked him to please go, then he said, it was his house, he could do what he wanted and I asked him again and without a word he dragged me to the bedroom, he slammed down the pipe wrench and told me again he owned everything including me, then he pushed me on the bed and within minutes he was raping me, ripping me, stealing my innocence and my soul in one violent act then he got up to go, he told me to wash the sheets unless I wanted mom to think I was wiping wrong again just like the retard I was, then he went into the bathroom and broke mom's favorite vase then left, When he left I cleaned the sheet as best as I could and picked up the glass, took a bath and got in my pajamas, sat on the couch frozen in shock, until my mom came home and got mad at me for making a mess in the tub, had missed some blood and she was furious I had wiped wrong again so I was sent to my room without supper and so she could call the institution that she told me later would not take me in because I was too retarded, I was ten, ten years old.
Since I first started this journey through my abuse, a question haunted me, until last weekend when after I was intimate with my husband, I was sitting on the bed fighting tears as I have done for a long time thinking of the question that never had an answer, how did he groom me, what did i get out of it, then i heard his voice, say that's my good girl and heard him moan and it hit me, finally the answer, he gave me pride he made me feel proud of pleasing him, being his good girl while my mom called me retard and pointed out i would never live up to my potential because i was a mistake from God, the way he got me to please him was to give me worth in a world where my mom did not even see me as worthwhile, that is how i saw it, how little me saw it, so I know now. now what ? My heart is broken, knowing little me had to do such vile things just to feel she had worth in her small world, teleah
Went back to therapy this Thursday, still in outpatient but had to see if i could get trauma therapy and found out I could, wish was good news maybe. Anyway most of the session was talking to TC, my youngest little, she is 3 or 4, she is so little, it hurts to look at her, she does not usually talk just cries but she talked this time,because I was willing to hear her or maybe she found her voice, I asked her what she needed from me and she said, she needed to be be believed, she needed to feel safe so i held her and stroked her hair and told her she no longer had to see her dad, i would protect her and she cried and said no he was her daddy and told me she did'nt trust me because i had hurt her a whole bunch of times, i told her i wouldnt do that anymore she just fell quiet as the therapy appointment ended and now i have to write my dad a goodbye letter and she keeps weeping, i can hear her like when she showed me TW.... her daddy teaching her to bring the leopard blanket and how to sneak her little hand under and please him as her mommy made dinner and her big brother played in the same room, I do not how to get her trust after hurting her through self harm through years, I want to tell her saying goodbye to her daddy is a good thing but she just sits and cries, i have no idea what to do now because all TC wants is her daddy.
TW..... Last Tuesday I had a doctor appointment and had an episode, i rocked in my chair and tried to not cry, I sat there just looking at the examining table, seeing little Theresa, me at age six and I am red down there and my dad is glaring at me and the doctor is telling me how to wipe and i am humiliated, we go home and dad tells my mom what the doctor said and she flies into a rage and makes me wipe in front of her and dad until i bleed, then makes me go to bed, the next morning she tells me if i want to be a retard i can go to an institution where people will crap their pants in front of me and play with themselves, then i went to school as if nothing happened. These images haunted me until my appointment when i told my t about the doctor appointment and was about to tell her about my memory when theresa told her about my self harm and she was tired of fighting the memories and felt broken, so my t went and got the director and soon his husband was driving me for an assessment and now i am in outpatient, feel like i am too much to heal, feel like no therapist is ever going to be prepared to treat me, feel like there is no hope of me to heal because i let theresa meet my t, teleah
Victim, was my moms favorite word for me, her greatest wish was for me to stop playing the victim in my life story, if i could just be a victor, i would drive, have a job, lose weight. get published if only i could see myself as a victor, she would be proud. Worthless was another favorite word for me, i was worthless because i never saw my potential. i was worthless because i did not drive, have a job, lose weight. Burden was another favorite word for me, my seizures were a burden to her, my clothes, my shoes, my soap, my braces, my schooling, all were a huge burden to her, These are the words i fight in mu head everyday and tonight they are booming after asking my stepdad for part of my inheritance, which he has offered me in the past but i am still fighting those words my mom used to describe me and tonight my biggest fear she was right.
Tenth Grade in high school was hell. I was Tw..... date raped in October, my crush got engaged while ,my mom got married and I never felt so alone in my fifteen years, I was overweight, scared and had sworn off boys after a painful breakup in my freshman year, I was alone while my mom and Jim went on a date, I looked in the bathroom and found my old seizure medication, not seeing things get better, I got a beer and went to my room, where my radio was on, and I was about to take the pills when the radio dj announced Wham's newest single "Everything She Wants", I was so excited I jumped up and the pills spilled everywhere and in that second, George Michael was the reason for not taking the pills, Nodak was saved because of his song. Nodak begin writing to him a journal of all her young relationship problems, her mothers emotional abuse, her date rape, her fuzzy memories of her past, the eternal love she felt for her crush, writing to him saved her life over and over until I got married yet Nodak was still part of me and George was still the reason to keep going, one more single, one more cd, one more concert, but now George is gone and Nodak is lost inside me, telling me there is no reason to keep going, her heart is broken and I have no idea how to comfort her, I normally embrace Nodak but now she as broken as the rest of me, not sure how to take care of her, now her George is gone.
In therapy we are working on parts of me, we started with the oldest that I actually like, sexy, funny, creative, meeting her was weird but ok, then last week my t faced me with TC, my youngest, she is 3 to 5, she carries the memories of grandpa, she keeps showing me glimpses of the hell she endured, mostly the times i was told to go sit with him and how i knew that meant to TW,,,,I knew how to pleasure a man at three, I was already taking care of my mom by keeping grandpa away from her so she was happy, TW.....I knew how to stroke him, i knew where to put my hand and how to make him happy at three, that is what TC went through,my heart breaks for her, then it hits me it happened to me, that leads my head and heart to mourn, mourn again, still mourn then the scary thought hits me, the only way the mourning ends is if I end, TC scares me and in order to heal I need to embrace her but embracing her hurts me, this is so confusing and I wish I could pretend I never met TC, pretend TC was never created through the trauma and hell she went through.
For the last four years, I have put her name into facebook. j , and I never find her and tonight, there she was, TW,,,,,the girl my father took pictures with at the river, the girl whose smile is etched in mu head, her laughter as she rode her bike behind me, singing Blondie songs, the girl who stood beside me in front of the log, where I was used of posing, then her joyous warm smile turned into shock and shame as he took pictures of her and me in our pantties, seeing her, was good because she is ok, she has kids, she has a husband and she looks so happy not broken like me for that i am relieved but still feel shaken, i thought i would find her and heal but no all that happened is I found her.,
Tomight I was hit by a horrible flashback, TW...... my dad whipping his belt on the bed, whack is all i hear now, this sound sent me into a crying jag and i texted hubby and he told me what i felt was normal, and that once i quit fighting the truth, it would get better, i texted back that would he be able to accept my truth that....TW My dad never loved me but lusted after me, that he intended to hurt me, that he gave me to his dad and his friends and he texted back. yes he could and i should accept it, not sure how i could do that, how do i accept he was a monster not a dad. he said i have to keep fighting, i am tired of this battle, tired of fighting ghosts, tired of this battle of the present and the past, tired of memories hitting me out of nowhere, so tired of this battle with my brain and my heart, want be done with this battle.
Had therapy today, it was intense, she is new to therapy so she is excited to have a strong client like me, I just smiled and said thanks and we moved on. We are going over the emotional abuse mostly but today the main topic was why my mother hated me so fiercely when i was little like when i was five to ten, and I realized it was because my dad paid more attention to me, took me out more, but here is the thing she would insist on us going out on dates once a week, fight my dad to take me out for dinner and a movie, so i am still baffled, but the thing that hurt the most, made sense but took my breathe away was her therory that my mom knew of the abuse, she just did not care, she was too busy taking care of herself, protecting herself to care he was grooming me to be his girlfriend, she did not care he was making my life hell, she did not care he was giving me my seizure meds with a cocktail at seven, she was not in denial, she just did not care and that is what hurts the most right now. I cared so much for her that i did not tell and she just did not care, i carried her husbands secret shame all my life and she just did not care, i dont even know how to begin to process that, tonight i hate myself for believing she ever cared enough to love and protect me from harm, teleah
My daughter starts senior year tomorrow, i want to celebrate but i am stuck in where i was at that age, My first day senior year i knew no one at my three story shopping mall size high school, i felt so lost, alone which i was used of after coming home from a week at my dads, a month ago. As i walked the hallways. i felt isolated but i felt that in my house with my mom, my stepdad and my new baby sister, so i was used of it, i thought getting lost to every class. Back home before my family invaded. i allowed myself the luxury to cry, to cry that a month when i had come back from my church trip to Germany I was stuck visiting my dad, in which during this trip, he took me out for lunch with a colleague of his, a man from out of town, and during this lunch i confidently spoke about politics and world events which i guess turned the man off because after lunch, the man left and my dad turned angrily to me, Had you not been so mouthy, he was interested, grabbed my arm harshly and lead me to the car, pushed me roughly in the car and snarled at me, Just because you are now a world traveler doesnt make you any less of a retard, keep your mouth shut from now on, and for the rest of that awful trip, i kept my mouth shut and went home silent, i barely spoke which my family thought was attitude when in reality my words had been taken away, stolen, stolen like my innocence that my dad ever protected me, that i was ever anything but property to him
TW this poem is about what i go through when the depression hits hard like these past weeks.........
My Dark Web
i keep trying to push them away, protect them from my toxic darkness, I dont want to infect anyone else with my toxic darkness, my dark despair, so i push them away before they they get entangled in my dark web,
I reason during the unreasonable hour of three in the morning, I should go before they get stuck in my hurt, in my soul muck, i should go before they wake up and need me again, but after a night of fighting my demons i awake in my dark web.
I awake the next day, even more determined to push them away, people who could be infected by this sickness, i turn off my phone, wont open my door, ignore their countless messages, reasoning i do not want to hurt anyone anymore.
Deep in this web, I sit the ones i have infected before, him the one who wanted to love me, save me from myself no longer sits next to me, next to me, the little girl i brought into this world unaware she would inherit my darkness, my hatred of self, she is the one who insists to stay in my dark web, feeling obligated for i am her mother and she still believes she can save me.
It takes hours, cups of dark deep coffee to climb out of my dark web, to be a loving wife, a strong mother but in seconds, a small gesture, a word, a song and im entangled in story my story of horror, with a heart full of frustarated sorrow, i know tomorrow i will not let anyone touch me, come near my dark web, i do not want to hurt anyone anymore.