I saw you in my dreams again.
I bet you never dream about me.
I don’t even want you to.
When I dream of you, it’s not out of longing.
It’s the pain you caused.
The fear you planted inside me—nothing more.
You are nothing but an abuser to me.
A sad, hollow being that needs to be stopped.
A black hole of violence and destruction.
I survived you in real life,
but I am still fighting in my dreams.
There—
where I beg you not to hurt me,
where I try to make you understand
why I had to speak up,
why I need justice for what you did.
In real life, I don’t care.
You’ll get what you deserve.
I’ll make sure of that.
But in my dreams, I’m back in that vulnerable place—
where you hold all the power,
where you decide if I live or die,
where I have to beg for my life,
where I have to explain that your abuse was wrong,
where I have to justify why I do what I do now,
where I have to cry, be nice, try to get out alive,
where I need you to let me move on.
But I don’t actually need your permission.
These are just nightmares.
A part of PTSD.
A part of my life now,
dragging me back into the darkness.
The darkness I thought I had overcome—
maybe I’ve only buried it,
hiding it because I know I’m spiraling back again.
I suffer more than I would ever admit.
Writing is the only release,
the only place these emotions exist.
Emotions I can’t even feel—
except for the ones that hurt.
Maybe you should’ve ended me.
Maybe it would’ve saved your ass from what’s coming.
It would’ve saved me from fighting every day.
But here we are.
You will never have power again.
And I will fight until you’re done.
I will rise—like a sun after the eclipse,
burning brighter than before,
unshaken by the shadow you tried to cast.
And now, he is my sun,
shining with a love so bright
that even the darkness you left behind has nowhere to hide.
You will rot in the cage built for you.
Living inside your own mind is already a life sentence—
but I’ll make sure you get the real thing.
No escape. No more victims.
I will be free.
And you will be a prisoner.
For me.
For the ones before me.
For the ones after me.