Let me go

Set me free

No more guilt trips.

No more threats.

I am a woman, and that makes me strong

Let me protect myself

because God only knows,

that you won’t

You tell me it’s Love

but what is love

when you’re throwing your hands up in the air,

dismissing every word,

puncturing your own skin

to punish me

lashing out when I don’t read from the script

can’t you listen to me, just this once?

I gave us a chance

and I was proven wrong

You hurt me

not only that, you broke me down

trapped me,

isolated me

scared the living hell out of me

because when I stayed like you asked

you warned me you’d do the thing I’m most afraid of

and it would be my fault

so I stay and you destruct

then blame it on me

as if I must be punished

for finally opening my eyes

but now I am back

and I regret it so much

it isn’t so easy to run anymore

I let you make me cry harder and harder

as you continued to dig deeper

Keep yelling

Now it’s my turn!

I made promises

early on, when you acted so different,

I let you make me hate myself

because I felt so wrong

The way you twist your words,

you know what you’re doing

You used to make me feel obligated

to withhold our promises

but then I was told

“A coerced promise does not get honored”

and that’s when I opened my eyes

To see

You are a narcissistic abuser

In textbook terms

and you fit the description just so perfectly

it makes me sick

it makes me weak

So won’t you stop!

Sometimes I wish I never loved you

Then I’ll think, I deserve this

but the truth is

no one does

I’m just waiting for the day

I have some strength

to leave you!

You can manipulate me

to get what you want

but how does that make you feel,

knowing I am just a puppet?

It started out like a fairytale. She was showered with gifts and poems and false hope. He came onto her strong, he came onto her fast. The word Love was spoken early on. I’m not sure when it became so horrible.“If you don’t stop crying by the time we get there, I’m slitting my wrist.” He threatens her. And these kind of words weren‘t unusual, but yet they stung differently this time. She wanted to cry louder, she wanted to scream out to the world she was a ghost to, she wanted to yell “Get me out of this Hell!” She wanted to yell, “Stop doing this to me!” She wanted to fall to her knees and let the tears escape her even faster, even harder. But she blinked her eyes and stopped the tears. The silence was deafening. She became ice cold and numb to the temperature, numb to the feeling of anything at all. A slave to her own lover, she was. A slave to the person she thought would never hurt her. But his words cut so hard that she shut it all off. In this moment, she gave him power. She gave him evidence that she would do what he says, including telling her how to feel, she would do it. How do you write about something so big? How do you talk about something so big? When they look at us, at the restaurant, they cheers our love. They buy us shots at the bar and tell me I’m so lucky to be young and in love. And it is perfect… for him, because he got his way. But Love isn‘t threatened. Love isn’t, if I don’t get what I want, I’m taking away someone you care about. Love isn’t, ”If you ever leave me, I’m killing myself.” Her stomach sank when he spoke these words. Her stomach sank when he did cut his wrist, when he told her it’s because he loved her. Her stomach dropped to the floor when he told her, “You make me do this.” This is what happens when she doesn’t listen. This is what happens when she tries to run. When she tries to run far away, just like her own therapist said. And so she listens. When he tells her to be happy, and here are some drugs, she takes the drugs and is happy. When he tells her to stop being so mopey, she takes another bump and smiles. He can take her job, he can take her car, he can cut her off from everyone in her family. But will she let him take her own soul? Her own dignity? Will she let him have it all, all of her, and more? What will it take for her to listen to herself, listen to that voice in her head that’s saying “Get out!” “Escape!” Her life isn’t so dreamy anymore, her life is Hell and her life is reality.

It started out like a fairytale. She was showered with gifts and poems and false hope. He came onto her strong, he came onto her fast. The word Love was spoken early on. I’m not sure when it became so horrible.“If you don’t stop crying by the time we get there, I’m slitting my wrist.” He threatens her. And these kind of words weren‘t unusual, but yet they stung differently this time. She wanted to cry louder, she wanted to scream out to the world she was a ghost to, she wanted to yell “Get me out of this Hell!” She wanted to fall to her knees and let the tears escape her even faster, even harder. But she blinked her eyes and stopped the tears. She became ice cold and numb to the temperature, numb to the feeling of anything at all. A slave to her own lover, she was. A slave to the person she thought would never hurt her. But his words cut so hard that she shut it all off. In this moment, she gave him power. She gave him evidence that she would do what he says, including telling her how to feel, she would do it. How do you write about something so big? How do you talk about something so big? When they look at us, at the restaurant, they cheers our love. They buy us shots at the bar and tell me I’m so lucky to be young and in love. And it is perfect… for him, because he got his way. But Love isn‘t threatened. Love isn’t, if I don’t get what I want, I’m taking away someone you care about. Love isn’t, ”If you ever leave me, I’m killing myself.” Her stomach sank when he spoke these words. Her stomach sank when he did cut his wrist, when he told her it’s because he loved her. Her stomach dropped to the floor when he told her, “You make me do this.” This is what happens when she doesn’t listen. This is what happens when she tries to run. When she tries to run far away, just like her own therapist said. And so she listens. When he tells her to be happy, and here are some drugs, she takes the drugs and is happy. When he tells her to stop being so mopey, she takes another bump and smiles. He can take her job, he can take her car, he can cut her off from everyone in her family. But will she let him take her own soul? Her own dignity? Will she let him have it all, all of her, and more? What will it take for her to listen to herself, listen to that voice in her head that’s saying “Get out!” “Escape!” Her life isn’t so dreamy anymore, her life is Hell and her life is reality.