Between hushed pants and ‘I love you’s’ I laid silent.
How could someone who claimed to love me so much do this to me?
The ceiling is to keep one closed in and safe,
So why when I looked at the ceiling was I in danger
Through rhythms that repeated, I prayed for it to be over.
“It only lasts A few minutes” I told myself
I reassured myself I’d keep you forever this way
No matter how many times I let you do it despite it ruining my sanity,
It happened so often I twisted it in my mind and told myself that this was your way of love,
To take what you wanted from me and never ask you to give back
I’d give and give emotionally low on empty
Never refilled or satiated by you, desperate for something, someone to offer me solace.
When twisting in my own mind didn’t work,
I convinced myself I deserved this,
I must’ve done something so awful in a past life that this was my punishment, it was the only way it made sense.
I should’ve loved the attention you gave me with no pants, it was the only way I was seen by you.
It had felt like all of my life boys wanted that from me, it was my fault I was never accustomed to it.
As you continued to get away with it I started to cover up more,
Baggy tee shirts, jeans, no makeup, short haircut.
No matter how bad I tried not to appeal to you, your hands would wrap around my waist as I tried to say no.
When I managed to choke out no, it was washed over with “come-on”s and hands up my unflattering t-shirt before a yes was even thought of.
When I finally snapped, all eyes were on me.
I was the bad guy, I was the monster, I was the manipulator.
Nobody ever knew what went on behind closed doors.
I would leave, but your hand was tighter than my will everytime.
The longer we were apart the more it seemed to me that you were the villain you always painted me out to be.
Monsters are supposed to leave when you turn on the lights,
Hiding under the covers always keeps you safe
But no matter how hard I tried these things you still showed up.
I never asked to be protected from you,
I just wanted someone to tell me I wasn’t crazy for once.
the death stares I’d get from those who adored you left me sick for days.
But the part that hurts the most is I can’t say your name, I can’t tell anyone my story,
If someone mentions you my chest hurts and I swear I can feel your hands unwanted up my shirt again.
You made me hate myself for so long, I’d have to take my clothes off in the dark
Knowing what you did to me and how it can’t be undone.
Edited by stitchedtogether