what is normal? what is love? what is life? what happens when dysfunction is the norm, hate masks as love and death imitates life?
most days i think that my "life" "love" and "normalcy" are what i have created them to be. they are the self made fantasy in my mind to keep me sane. what is real is that i am still here. what is normal is that i don't want to be.
i want so badly to feel love and to be loved, but i hate him. hate the distance between us. hate the violence he denies exists.
white picket fences and a lush green lawn are not what i craved, but family dinners and laughter, cuddles on the couch after the kids had gone to bed. what i got instead are the vivid pictures of your face in mine with that shark eyed look as you proceed to scream at me how you are going to hurt me. could you feel the fear seething out of my pores?
i feel so much just lingers beneath the surface of my contempt and loathing. there are times i just want to reach out and hold you, but i remember past rejections and don't. i remember all the names you've called me. all the ways you've hurt me.
i yearn for us to have a "good" life, but you don't believe you deserve anything that is "good". i can almost feel the battle within you rage-until it reaches your surface and then is evident for all to see in the wake of destruction you leave.
most days i think that my "life" "love" and "normalcy" are what i have created them to be. they are the self made fantasy in my mind to keep me sane. what is real is that i am still here. what is normal is that i don't want to be.
i want so badly to feel love and to be loved, but i hate him. hate the distance between us. hate the violence he denies exists.
white picket fences and a lush green lawn are not what i craved, but family dinners and laughter, cuddles on the couch after the kids had gone to bed. what i got instead are the vivid pictures of your face in mine with that shark eyed look as you proceed to scream at me how you are going to hurt me. could you feel the fear seething out of my pores?
i feel so much just lingers beneath the surface of my contempt and loathing. there are times i just want to reach out and hold you, but i remember past rejections and don't. i remember all the names you've called me. all the ways you've hurt me.
i yearn for us to have a "good" life, but you don't believe you deserve anything that is "good". i can almost feel the battle within you rage-until it reaches your surface and then is evident for all to see in the wake of destruction you leave.
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