It Must Be Me *edited
(the link was not working so I have posted the document here)
This was published by Glass Gates in 2023.
I am publishing it here today in celebration of every Woman who has been the victim of Domestic Abuse and survived!
IT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT!
……………………………………………………………………….
I sat in my bedroom crying while you were lying on the couch.
Reading a newspaper, ignoring my existence and my only thought was, "it must be me".
And so, the seeds of self-doubt, as well as loneliness, were planted.
My mother never loved me, so why would you?
It must be me.
We had sex sometimes.
Anything is better than nothing, I guess.
I did everything I could to please, but it made no difference.
It must be me.
Now I know it was not me.
It was you, but the pain remains, and my wounds refuse to heal.
Because I will always think, "it must be me".
If only I could turn back the clock to a time before you walked through my mind.
When it was unsullied and clean, a time before I ever thought, "it must be me".
Why you did it is something I will never know.
Because you could I suppose.
I will never get back what you stole from me, the best years of my life.
If we had never met, I could now be someone’s wife.
No one will ever want me I am damaged goods.
I carry too much baggage and no one wants to help me unpack.
Of course, none of this is of any interest to you because you are no longer here.
But even in death your legacy still lingers.
Like a shroud it covers my skin.
You will always be the shadow that haunts me day and night.
Was it me?
Am I the one messed up in the head?
I look at photographs of myself as a child, happy and carefree, before I ever thought, “it must be me”.
And yes, Karma intervened on my behalf, but it has made no difference at all.
I still play small and am constantly filled with self-doubt.
I only hear your words as they continue to scream and shout.
All this crap about time being a healer and wounds that mend.
Time only slips through your fingers as you let life pass you by.
It does not heal anything, nor does it lessen the pain.
I wish I could cry for everything that I have lost, but I refuse to let myself shed any tears and anyway crying is for wimps.
I am my father’s daughter and he taught me to be strong.
If it were not for all the times I let him down, I would end my life today.
When I do pass from this earthly plane, I hope you are not waiting at Heaven’s Gate, because I have no real wish to see your face again.
All I want is to be free of this pain and the memories of what you did and the way you made me feel.
Maybe one day I will be healed, or maybe not.
Will I ever be free?
Or will I always have the constant voice shouting in my head saying, “it must be me”.
Unsplash Image by Ardalan Hameda