Jus Fightin Over It

I used to reach out my arm at night, reaching for connection. To get hit square in the nose for even trying. After a while, I learned to be completely still, to not make a noise. To never use my phone in bed. If I was uncomfortable and didn’t sleep, it was better than waking up with my face bruised and sore again.

The narcissistic pull, the way they could make me feel as if I am so special. Followed by the intense push of being told I will never be loved, not by anyone but especially not by them. All to be woke up the next morning and told to take their kid to school. As if I wasn’t just told less than 12 hours before, that I was, indeed, unlovable.

Even after years, I still find myself having these intense nightmares. Nightmares in which everyone I have ever cared for abandons me.

I’ll go to work. I’ll sit at home. I’ll play my little games. I’ll ignore that deep ache telling me I deserve such love.

The love in me lies dormant. I’ve locked her away. She cries so loud, sometimes I let her free. A quick 15 minute run before she reluctantly walks back into her cell, hearing the clicks of the locks behind her. She knows the routine.