Poetry about life after narcissistic abuse / emotional abuse
Your hand closed around her throat
as if you were reaching for her heart,
but instead you stole her voice and
gave her the gift of victim; did you
think you could get away with it?
Did you think she wouldn’t learn
how to scream? You couldn’t silence her.
She’s still as drawn to you as I am,
so you enjoyed playing us against
each other to make you feel like
you were important. You were not.
You were only a nightmare disguised
as a dream, with our screams giving
you the power you needed to survive.
You may be alive, but you might as well
be dead in our hearts. We transformed
from victim to survivor, and your power
quickly had no home to regenerate.
You thought her love for you would give
freedom of flight, but instead it clipped your
wings and made you a prisoner to our
strength, which is an emotion you’ll
never earn. You will always be a slave.