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Flashbacks
A/N POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING!!! IF YOU UNDERSTAND THIS PART, I AM SO SORRY. I HEAR YOU. I FEEL YOU. I SEE YOU.
YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN WHAT THIS LIFE HAS GIVEN YOU.
Its that time of year again. The time where the nightmares begin again. The flashbacks in the middle of the day causes me to break apart inside. The flashbacks are painful. I can feel everything all over again. I want to scream stop, but like then, now you don't listen. You do what you want to do. And I'm left mentally broken, and ashamed.
These flashbacks have me on edge. Every. Single. Day. It's the same set of flashbacks. Always. I can't erase them from my memory. Forever burned in my mind. On my skin. I've tried to talk about them, but somehow, its always my fault. Somehow I chose what you did. Somehow I was the sick one.
Now I am sick. Sick everyday around this same time of year. I'm scared of being touched because of you. I'm scared of smiling. I'm scared of being loved. All because of you and these flashbacks that will live with me until the day I'm in the ground.
You've apologized. Once while you were drunk. I cling to the thought that drunk minds speak sober thoughts. But it doesn't stop the pain. It doesn't stop the hollowness in my chest when the flashback hits. The sweat that builds in clusters on my clammy skin. The scream that never leaves my throat.
It's the begging why, that never gets answered. It's the why did I let it happen that has been instilled into my mind since I was eleven years old. Now at the age of twenty-three I still have these flashbacks. I still have the same question. Why was I the one punished? I was a fear filled child. Why did you take that from me?
Why must I relive the past every single year as an adult? Nothing helps. I've tried to drown the flashbacks with different remedies. There's no stopping them. They come like a train, shattering my body into millions of pieces, that I slowly have to rebuild each year. Telling myself to get it together.
Flashbacks of begging, of saying "no", of being screamed at by my own mother for something YOU did to ME. Not the other way around. Being called a nasty little whore at eleven years old! I hear these words in my head every year. These flashbacks will never leave me.
Thank you. And Sincerely. Fuck you.
© Marie Releford
YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN WHAT THIS LIFE HAS GIVEN YOU.
Its that time of year again. The time where the nightmares begin again. The flashbacks in the middle of the day causes me to break apart inside. The flashbacks are painful. I can feel everything all over again. I want to scream stop, but like then, now you don't listen. You do what you want to do. And I'm left mentally broken, and ashamed.
These flashbacks have me on edge. Every. Single. Day. It's the same set of flashbacks. Always. I can't erase them from my memory. Forever burned in my mind. On my skin. I've tried to talk about them, but somehow, its always my fault. Somehow I chose what you did. Somehow I was the sick one.
Now I am sick. Sick everyday around this same time of year. I'm scared of being touched because of you. I'm scared of smiling. I'm scared of being loved. All because of you and these flashbacks that will live with me until the day I'm in the ground.
You've apologized. Once while you were drunk. I cling to the thought that drunk minds speak sober thoughts. But it doesn't stop the pain. It doesn't stop the hollowness in my chest when the flashback hits. The sweat that builds in clusters on my clammy skin. The scream that never leaves my throat.
It's the begging why, that never gets answered. It's the why did I let it happen that has been instilled into my mind since I was eleven years old. Now at the age of twenty-three I still have these flashbacks. I still have the same question. Why was I the one punished? I was a fear filled child. Why did you take that from me?
Why must I relive the past every single year as an adult? Nothing helps. I've tried to drown the flashbacks with different remedies. There's no stopping them. They come like a train, shattering my body into millions of pieces, that I slowly have to rebuild each year. Telling myself to get it together.
Flashbacks of begging, of saying "no", of being screamed at by my own mother for something YOU did to ME. Not the other way around. Being called a nasty little whore at eleven years old! I hear these words in my head every year. These flashbacks will never leave me.
Thank you. And Sincerely. Fuck you.
© Marie Releford
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