Roots

Why do I talk about my abuse when I talk about myself? Am I more than my abuse? Has understanding the consequences of being abused unintentionally become self-defining? Does my abuse define me, as well as make me? Who am I without my abuse?
This is uncomfortable.

Advertisements
Read Article →

Clasping At Chests

“I’m hurting myself, and I let you hurt me.
I’m sad, but I’m saddened because I wish you were right for me. I’m sad because I wish you were someone you’re not. I’m sad because I wish you’d treat me the way you can’t. I’m sad because you don’t know how to love me, but I want you to love me anyway. I’m sad because I know I can’t ever let you again. I’m sad because I’ve felt you. I’m sad because you’ve touched me. I’m sad because I’d take it all back.”

Read Article →