Witnessed
I screamed at you in my dream last night.
No, wait
I raged.
Hot relentless tears.
Years of nightmares soaking my feet
and a throat rendered raw.
First came your façade,
all smiles and geniality.
But I knew it was a ploy
dressed in a smile of reassurance
(she’s the crazy one)
held in place by rivets of vengeance
and strips of insecurity masking as victimhood.
That smile makes me want to vomit
and kiss my knuckles to your teeth
but
then I’d have to touch you.
shudder
And then you called me “Honey”
Fuck. That.
Keep your fucking hands off me.
I can’t move away fast enough.
Contact, always made to look innocent.
A “chance encounter” only.
You see that shit he pulls?
A casual glance of the fingers
like he’s addicted to me.
Predatory.
It’s sickening.
My flesh is a temple
he can’t help but touch.
Like an addict
loathing and craving in harmony,
hating and loving.
But not me.
No, you don’t love me.
You love what you thought I did for you.
He reveres me with the same breath his ego uses to disparage my existence.
You don’t deserve to taste the air that I breathe.
I can’t get away fast enough
or far enough
but I’ll stay for this moment
to put you in your fucking place.
To make you feel.
My turn to stand
while you sit.
nods from the gallery, hearing my truth
I try hard
to stay calm, collected.
”Good girl” personified.
Exemplified.
Undeniably, unfailingly, normal.
The very image of composure
give the judges nothing
but you crossed that line
like a crack in the sidewalk.
Disregarded.
No second thought.
Stepped on
again
and again
and again.
My dam of propriety finally broke.
Obliterated.
And fuck did I tear into you,
your lies and bullshit exposed.
You try to sugarcoat and gaslight
but guess what?
I’m holding the fucking matches this time.
This time,
I have witnesses.
Your poison words won’t honey stray minds.
My throat chakra is open.
Truth embodied.
A torrent of anger
delivered with a watercolor of emotion.
It builds
like lightning on the horizon.
Electric tension mounting with each second,
each scorched inhale.
I’m done holding back.
Done being the bigger person.
Bigger because these fucking weights are twisting my spine.
Boulders of grief, shame, and guilt
that were never mine to carry,
but, oh, how you made me believe they were.
You offered them
like sweet little pets
then chained them to me
like lost puppies.
Fuck.
They were rabid dogs
starving
straining
gnawing
at every ounce
of self worth
I had left.
You stole years of my life,
wrapped them in gold
covered them in diamonds,
and delivered them in nightmares
while pretending not to notice
the neon signs blinding your eyes.
I am fury unleashed
painting your truth with sound.
Look at me.
Look at what you’ve done.
You created a monster (you)
and unleashed a fucking queen.
I can’t think with this fury racing out of me.
I’m not supposed to.
My body is a channel,
torment translated into tone and volume.
And finally
you shut your mouth
and wear the waves of agony
and anger
draping the room.
Softer edges
then darkness.
The dream fades,
relief remains.
Words unspoken, finally witnessed.
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