The darkness I have seen.
You don't know the circles of hell I've visited,
You haven't named the things that crawl up from the cracks to threaten
When the clock blinks 3 am and I am very, very afraid.
What do you know of trying to scrub the skin off your body,
So that you might, one day, disappear?
What do you know of screams into pillows?
Of cold, shaking panic when someone hugs you from behind
And you did not expect it?
You don't know that I once broke up with a boy because he had a plaid comforter
Like you did that day.
And I could never quite explain
Why that made me feel so sick.
How back then I still thought it was my fault.
You took my ability to walk into a room and meet someone's eye
For so damn long.
And you don't know the war I've fought to get it back.
You don't know about deep breathes in bathroom stalls,
When I hear that song and I can feel your hand on my throat all over again
From a little girl
To get just what you wanted.
And you don't know all that I've done since
To get your venom out of my blood.
You don't get to know the woman that I am,
In spite of you.
You don't get to know
The strength I build out of pain every day.
And the joy that has slowly filtered
Like light through a window, back in.
You see I never got to tell you,
That I am endless
And I am still here.