I donít have flashbacks, my days are still,
But deep down inside, I scream and I shrill;
People always say, ďI never seen you mad,Ē
Thatís ícause I donít want to make you sad;
I donít want to make you truly understand,
The burden of loving a soul you canít stand;
Imprisoned and chained into playing a role,
And having no purpose or meaning or goal;
Husband or father? Donít know which one,
Any male roleÖjust anything but a son;
Open my mind and Iíll take you for a ride,
See how much shitís been deposited inside;
In trying to be sane, Iíve discovered the insane,
The voice of reason now eludes my brain.
I donít have nightmares, my sleep is sound,
But darkness and evil within me abound;
Iím like a container assigned for waste,
Toxic and poisonous in smell and taste;
A sponge that soaks up all that is bad,
A curse for which Iím supposed to be glad.
I was never violated, penetrated nor raped,
But layers of my body have surely been scraped;
Tiny little things that make my skin crawl,
Make me freeze like a silly wooden doll;
Day in, day out, a touch here, a touch there,
Before I know it, itís more than I can bear;
No doubt, each instance of abuse is small,
I agree, they hardly seem to matter at all;
But please, believe me when I say this to you:
The tallies add up, and Iím suffering, too.
I was never tortured, tied up nor bound,
But part of my soul had surely been drowned;
For delivering oneís love with all oneís hate,
Destroys the recipient under a crushing weight;
Amidst the feelings of an insatiable rage,
One must contain all his anger in his cage;
Expected to endure manipulation so vile,
And love the abuser with a spark and a smile;
Demands to swallow dumb lies and believe,
And continue to function, trust and achieve;
I swear on my life, I tried to resist,
But all I feel is that Iíve ceased to exist.
It now seems obvious, the terms of this deal:
I must relinquish my freedom to feel.
I was never held nor overpowered by force,
But guilt then plagues me: did IÖendorse?
So long, I believed in her mantra of ďloveĒ,
As if her calling had descended from above;
Fervently supported by those without eyes,
How could I see through such crafted disguise?
Truth was blocked through implanted guilt,
A bubble of lies that was carefully built;
I was ďspecialĒ, one who truly understood,
Devoted and warped, Iíd do anything I could;
Remnants of grooming still remain within me,
For lies so ingrained are difficult to flee.
I was never threatened with pain or death,
But often, I wished for it under my breath;
My mind is flooded with poisonous foam,
The rage within me has found no home;
A part of me wishes to throw her in jail,
But Iíd be that dumbass who gets her on bail;
And whatís the point of even trying?
To call her a criminal would actually be lying:
Her acts arenít crimes: a hair off the mark,
So here, I sitÖand I holler, and I bark.
It was not so long before I could deduce,
That behind this monster, hid a past of abuse;
And herein lay the source of my demise:
Compassion and sympathy for one I despise.
I know it's hard for some to believe,
That someone like me could cry and grieve;
I know it sounds stupid to love and hate,
You're probably thinking I can't think straight;
But things right now are so fucking grey,
I'm having some trouble finding my way.
I still want to belong to this herd:
I just want my story to be heard.
The ratio of good to bad people in this world will always be tipped in favor of the latter. Always. But that ratio in your own social circle, you can control. And there, and only there, can the balance be favorably tipped, so that those who love you far outnumber those who don't.