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Posts tagged domestic terror

desperate devotion

If today were the day that he killed you
would you wonder why you stayed?

brutal honesty

No, your mean spirited truth can not destroyed me,
nor will I fall apart while you slice the very air with the
sharpened knives of your unkind words.

dying for love

So, you think that you still love your abuser?
Really?
You think that you can work it out with patience and kindness?
Or maybe you think that you can handle it, until it gets better.

Counseling might help.
Forgiveness might work.

Or not.

the flowers

“I bought some sunflowers, they were so cheerful.”
I can’t buy them. I can’t even cut them.
We have roses. . .
“You hear the flowers screaming . . .”
Yes, I do. (How did you know?)

come back, Mister Boyfriend

In our second lifetime, post abuse, my girls and I lived in a small, two bedroom, second-floor apartment. During the summer, new tenants moved in across from us. A woman and a little girl.

I don’t remember when I started to notice that something was very wrong over there. It seems like maybe it [...]

normal

You may not want to face that danger.
You may decide to wish it away,
pretend it doesn’t exist,
but what you may not know
is how close you might be to terminal violence.

get over it!

if there is nothing but love
or hate
in this world

which will you choose?

power

A weakness
is a Power
that you have not yet discovered
within yourself.

crazy

hot tears burst from my soul,
leak from my face,
without warning
been crying for days,
over nothing, or something,
feeling
out of control
anger
emotional outrage
flares hot
over nothing
or
something
that it should not
i am so very,
very
tired
of the fight to remain solid
my skin barely contains
the liquid fire
that runs through me,
burning,
electric fire hell
in my neck and shoulders
sparkling bone pain,
broken glass,
in my spine
can’t seem to get out [...]

whose life are you living?

Now that I am old enough to enjoy thoughts of what I want to do when I grow up – and to effect decisions about how i will live my life as it is now – i can finally feel victorious over those painful memories of the impossibility of living the life i was in at the time . . .

Back then, i was unable to create any life at all, for myself and my daughters. I couldn’t make the break with the past and go forward. I couldn’t find the answer – my life was at checkmate.

The grim Reaper waited, hands reaching toward me, willing me to quit. My daughters needed me to be strong, to take care of them, to make a home for them.

Go forward or die.