A Letter to You, From Your Past Bitch

I hope you know how you siphoned my soul.

How a slow drip becomes a hurricane pour

when you choose oblivion over therapy.

I hope you forgive yourself for everything

except for what you did to me.

I hope guilt finds you in the night

and that it stays with you for a while.

I hope you know that when you tried to kill me

I grew back something fierce.

That your final move said a lot about you

and absolutely nothing about me.

I hope you know how you blocked the light

from reaching me.

That I see your bullshit as nothing more

than an epically failed indoctrination.

That when your hate came at my heart

it got the shit kicked out of it

and went home crying.

I hope you know your abuse will hurt you

far more than it ever will me.

That when you tried to make me disappear

I decided I'd haunt you forever instead.

I hope you know that

if for even a second

I believed you were right

this poem is one big proclamation

of that sure as shit won't happen again.

I hope you know you are not

what is best for this world.

That the ground won't even like you enough

to sprout a weed from your grave.

That while everything you touch dies

I live like a fucking rockstar.

I hope you know that helping you see

how your privilege blinds you

is a full-time job I'll never volunteer for again.

I hope by some miracle you realize

Roe v. Wade matters more than your tax break

but that might be a lot to ask of a cause as

hopeless as you.

I hope you know the only thing you ever gave me was

shame

and that I don't have one fucking iota of it now.

That I bathe in how small that makes you feel.

I hope you know that your final gift was one

I didn't know I needed

til it slapped me in the face.

And that damn it felt warm

to walk away the bigger person.

I hope you know I wouldn't ride your carousel from

hell again

if forty-five pairs of Doc Martens

waited for me at the end of it.

I hope you know that I am bigger

than you will ever be.

That you are just a speck of ash

in a hellfire so old

no one remembers it.

I hope you know that you betrayed

the best thing you will ever have.

That I positively revel

in the glory of living

to honor the pieces you couldn't keep of me.

I hope you know that when you said I was nothing

you failed at the one small thing

that should've been easy.

That the only sin I will absolve myself of

is you.

That I could find good in anyone

until you were born

and made that expression obsolete.

I hope that you're reading this now

and that you had to sit down.

I hope you know that even though

the only commitment you ever kept in your life

was convincing me you were all I had

I don't waste a single breath

on telling your story anymore.

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Notes from my Diary, Revised

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Saying “I Have a Mental Illness,” and What Follows