I couldn’t stand up,
You weighed on me so heavy.
So I just stayed down
To wait until I was ready.
The strain of your love
Wasn’t something I could levy
So I blame your “love”
For the fact that I’m not steady.
You lit up my world,
But the whole thing caught flame.
For me it was real,
For you–just a game.
You left me on fire,
My anger to hold alone.
You thought I’d expire,
But now I call the fire “home”.
I adapted and survived,
Though for a time I turned to stone.
Now I’m made of fire and thrive
From the inferno of my mind’s catacomb.
No reality could have prepared me
For this life living inside these flames,
But from all of the lives I have lived before,
Only fire and ash remains.
So much of what I do seems desperate
And I trick myself, it’s fine.
But when it becomes time to rest it
Desperation comes back to my mind.
My mind is fearing, I’m crippled
By doubt and insecurity.
The effects of which have rippled
And my person is wracked with dis-ease.
To attempt to make sense of this madness
I construct theories from thoughts I’ve mined,
The ends of which is infinite sadness
When the conclusion is all that I find.
So back to this desperation
Which spins me around and around
And seeks for, but fails full formation
Of fair trees grown in solid ground.
I believe its a calling for journey,
For travel and experience.
A trip at which I’ve just hit the entry.
A future that is much more mysterious.
I never wanted to be the Her you spoke of crudely.
I only ever wanted your love.
But you spoke to who I was so rudely
And it stifled what I am made of.
I never wanted to be a man-hating feminist.
You spoke about them like they were dirt.
But if you hadn’t always been such a misogynist,
my perception of men would be so hurt.
I never wanted to be your failure,
just my own heart’s seeker for success.
But expectations made me quiver,
and now passion, I feel less and less.
I never wanted to be a disgrace,
reminding you of your darkest hour.
But when I look into your face
I see decades of greed seeking power.
I never wanted to be an outsider–
speaking out against the crowd.
Now I’ve become a freedom writer,
Braver than ever, strong and loud.
I never wanted to be Her–
the girl you spoke of with such distain.
You challenged me, but couldn’t conquer,
though your attempts left me in horrendous pain.
You stomped out all my truth,
and planted lies inside my brain.
But that Girl was never my enemy,
and from Her, a divine woman will remain.
Woe to abusers who claim innocence
and their victims who own the blame.
A paradox of such friction and dissonance,
this relationship has a name.
For one of these is a narcissist,
the other thinks they’re the same.
But the one who lies in the dark abyss
must bring others down to their plain.
You won’t know how to apologize,
if you ever even knew you were wrong.
The pain that hides deep behind your eyes
will be expressed through my endless song.
You couldn’t overcome, and you couldn’t rise,
so you created in me, a dying swan.
Your ego attempted to colonize,
and you’ll always think YOU moved along.
But I made the choice, and I left you there,
I’m healing, starting fresh, completely bare.
The things you did, they were not fair.
They tore me to ashes, alone and scared.
But my ashes ember in a deadly stare.
This wasn’t your work, don’t you even dare
act like you came in my life and answered a prayer.
Without you, I’d be where I deserve, I swear.
You bastard, you should live in the hell you made.
You created it for others when you were afraid.
Stop projecting your self hatred, here’s the blade.
Do your work, cut your own cord, give yourself a grade.
The lack of equality and empathy you displayed
was a testament to us, and still, you get paid.
This last song I sing for you in the bed you laid
is a narcissist’s love song–a Survivor’s serenade.