You set the pace in this rugged little rat race I turned for a moment stuck in the torment This seductive game I couldn’t be contained Shrewd yet so weak pretending I was meek Calling your bluff in your ridiculous cuffs Rolling my eye no more tears left to cry Pathetic to any shunned by many Digging your way down buried underground I laugh at you now with your furrowing brow Disapproval lashing about fuck off hear my shout This battle is over the war won covers me in clover Flourishing in joy no longer your ragged little toy Dead soul torn apart what once held your heart You’ve lost much more than I gave you credit for Etched upon my brain your turn to feel such pain It all began with you telling me nothing ever true Blood boiling red your skin peeling so to shed Addiction is your enemy but I however am set free Taunt me more believe what you don’t know Hell is where you reside not a soul on your side Only in the wake of your demise you fall not rise Me on the other hand unstoppable taking a stand Tell me again once more with conviction about honor respect and love Oh wait that’s right yours is only a contradiction You taught me more than I ever bargained for Let me praise Him for pushing me out the door Stop listening to his demands Only the righteous One commands The world will shout but the Man whispers about “Get off his back Get out of God’s way Get on with your life” Get it? Got it? Good!
Strangled by oppression, eventually anger will build and pool in the very soul that was created in love. Out of fear and doubt, the inability to speak, my insides cry and lash out. Why can’t I exhume my deepest thoughts? What I say matters, intellectually inspiring, there is so much to share.
Convicted as a child with emotions to express, ridiculed for feeling, thinking, with wants needs and desires. This would carry on and haunt me like the enemy adores, but God is my one and only, He blessed me with an almighty voice. Choosing to write is what’s saved my own life.
A reflection of what I’ve been carrying around, the pen flows my truth, saving me from being buried underground. At times there are poems rhyming and sometimes not. Uncomfortable to some, embraced by those who aren’t fearful nor flee. My words unbound placed upon my heart. The freedom to shed that has both kept me together and torn me apart.
Truly a masterpiece, His prized work in this aspiring vessel. His Mercy and Grace bringing forth what has been nestled. Now I can see it, my truest self worth I’ve always hidden. Staying this course will revise how I’ve lived, protecting the gifts I’ve been given.
There are people I love and things that I need, but in the end, I always receive everything I believe. When I stop chasing after those who run and hide, I am equipped to move towards what beckons from inside.
Question his communication/sexting with that other female
Stack the entire wood pile and it will be wrong
Report any male interaction (which is not allowed anyhow) inaccurately
Have your own thought or unwelcomed opinion
Ask permission to help your child, be told no and having it tear you two
Speak to anyone in public while by his side without permission first
Take initiative and always get it wrong
Not have all your thoughts gathered prior to asking him a simple question in the form of a request
Make any decisions without asking him first
Think you can use the bathroom without asking first
Forget to bring the lint brush to your inspection
Wear something/everything to please him
Speak casually about nothing in particular
Have emotions about something
Have feelings about anything
Provide self care that doesn’t suit him
Rest when there are chores to attend to
Do anything that might negatively affect him
The word no will be removed from your vocabulary then if there’s any implication of a pushback, and there will be and it will torment you that he has the last word and final say in everything pertaining to you
and when you do…
As I warn you of his darkest secrets, I can feel his hand around my neck, pulling my hair back with the other while he leads me to the bed where I would find myself bound face down, ankles tied to a dowel, rear end arched in the air, naked and exposed, completely at his mercy where he would begin administering his correction with corporal punishment by means of a cane, all the while asking why you did what you did, telling you to count down every painful swat as the lacerations trickle red fluid and you will weep and you will sob and you will be terrified to stay and tormented to leave and you will wonder if he means it when he says, I love my good little girl…so you stay, broken and defeated only to fall asleep and question… it all
You will wake up one day very soon, consumed with anxiety while confusion ensues and fear will rule your world and he will revel as you wriggle. He will coerce and convince you that you have a masochistic little girl deep down inside just to feed his sadistic appetite. He will take this as far as possible, insidiously it will overtake your world and then you will find it near impossible to escape as the pathways of your brain become trampled. You begin questioning yourself, believing his words and then you will disappear inside your mind, lost to yourself and the world you once knew.
He will invest in you in ways that make only him happy, so long as you worship and serve solely him and you don’t disrupt his intentions and goals to use you, possess and keep you for his property to use at his disposal, that way he can destroy you and you won’t know what’s coming.
You will unintentionally cross him, guaranteed, and he will call it catastrophic. The dismissals of you will begin. Each and every time he discards you, will be more painful the the last and he will do this, time and time again, until you become wise to him, then and only then will he begin his sick psychotic cycle again and every time he summons you back will be worse than the time before and this will become your bond of trauma, your life and none of it will be real, except his sickness of narcissistic abuse.
You will find yourself blasting My Immortal, singing it loudly and passionately to his absent self hoping he would feel, something, anything, as if he ever cared one single ounce for you, because he didn’t. He can’t. He’s numb.
He despised me using my voice in the end, unveiling his true ways and that truth is, I loved a malignant, sociopathic, covert narcissistic person for 9 years. One driven by his own pain and agony as the wretched demonic attachments linger and strangle his heart further.
I was his main fuel supply for his every erotic, sadistic thought and act, his deepest devotion only to his manipulation and domination. My fear was his oxygen, his control was my nemesis, destruction and demise. For any other on his radar, close to being in his clutches, entrapped by this ongoing calculated mode, he will assuredly lure you in as his next victim and flying monkey. Sucked in to perform his cowardly dirty work for him, beware. These are his only means of controlling what is the only thing that ever mattered to him and is now uncontrollable, and that my darling, is me.
He walked out of the mini mart to pump the gas. They weren’t married, not yet. Had she been more aware, who knows? He was noticing a man paying attention to her and it angered him. He became enraged at her, mumbled some foul words as he got behind the wheel and sped off, as if her beauty that attracted men was her fault, or a curse. This would become her norm, his insecurities that devoured him and she was his obsession.
The engagement happened as she imagined. Her regret was sharing the fantasy of what it looked like and he replicated it like a script. His lack of originality disappointed her and this would continue throughout their marriage. Years passed by as their growing family blessed her and filled her heart and fed the emptiness, while he spiraled into the darkness unable to manage his jealousy, he began to demean her.
Tainted by his weaknesses she would seek attention that didn’t make her skin crawl and even welcome the kindness of strangers, but she remained faithful in body. His control was killing her and eventually she revolted, acting upon her impulses she thought would take her away from the insanity, but it only made things worse.
She was a mother first and a woman with needs second. She could no longer ignore her desire to feel special, wanted and yearned for. Her affair she was told would be considered retaliatory. A lady’s innate need for protection and be given provision for his object of affection became clouded by that deep power of possession. He began to oppress her femininity solely for himself. Suspicious of her every move, she knew of his prior infidelities, despised his addictions and loathed the sight of him.
Five years would pass. He walked into her experience, self proclaimed he was damaged goods, but she just smiled. The discarding began early on, only after his love bombing and idealizing of her cemented her heart with his. The insidious cycle of his abuse took her deep inside herself. Hiding in the depths of her own bewilderment and confusion, she knew he had taken possession of her.
Trapped again under another’s control, she felt the demise, the assassination of her character, her soul at large, spirit on the run, how would she break free of this bondage? Too frightened to leave and terrified to stay, she found solace in her voiceless existence.
Bruised by his marks of ownership, ashamed for her lack of strength, value and self worth, she began to examine her life, asking herself why she couldn’t escape the torment of the ties that bound her, until the night she did.