I did not ask for you to come by. You were not invited into my bed tonight, but here we are. You are strong and intense and I am weak and afraid. I am not stable enough to push you away anymore.
You are the tossing and turning that keeps me up all night. You are the feeling in my chest that doesn’t let me fight you off. You are the darkness in my mind that refuses to let the light in. You tell me I am worthless, helpless, and hopeless. You are the reflection in the mirror that tells me I am not beautiful and I’ve finally begun to believe you.
What everyone doesn’t see is that you don’t just stay for the night. No, you follow me into the morning. When the sun starts to rise, you know I so desperately want to get up. I try, only to be knocked back down again. You disguise yourself as a smile stretched across my face, just so everyone knows I don’t have an abuser. But no one can know that; you won’t let them.
You have put me through hell. My body has learned to be okay with being your battleground, exposing only a few scars. You have thrown tsunamis into my mind. The tidal waves you have ripped through my sanity have created only a few tears. If there is anything more terrifying than that, I don’t ever want to be here for it.
I know you are here to protect me but I don’t want you here anymore. I’ve seen some traumatic things these past few years and I know you just want to help, but please let me do this on my own. You are debilitating. Don’t take away my hope for a beautiful life. Let me go.