i'm a recovering addict to know it wasn't alcohol or drugs
it was you,the addiction to loving a man who does not know how to love correctly
his substance abuse since you were fucking poison
the bruises on my body may have faded over time
but they left scars on the inside of my brain
like an itch that never gets fucking scratched
the lingering,oh god
the lingering,is this why i crave such intimacy?
but i'm so deathly afraid of it
afraid of the next time a man raises his voice at me
his fists are what follow shortly after
its easy for you to forget about me
but its hard to forget you when i'm flinching after some guy reaches over my knees
just to grab something from his glove compartment
his fucking glove compartment
when a stoner needs something strong to get high
he smokes a lot more weed to reach that same level of high
every time we fought it built that tolerance i needed something stronger
because little fights resulted in little reward
but throwing me into walls and bringing me flowers the next day gave me a new high
and you knew i'd never leave because you knew i was addicted
loving you was the drug that infiltrated through my veins and the residue is now trapped within my body,it will always live inside of me
and now i'm in recovery looking at a girl whose eyes were once swollen shut
and used concealer to cover the bruise marks
where kisses should've been placed instead
and after all that i'm still soft
what is this fucking obsession i have with broken glass and angry people
i may have grown up in an angry household
but i didn't realize id grow up to love the people who made it angry in the first place
but was it my fault because i stayed?
because i let you take the light out of me?
because i kept handing you the knife that was slowly killing me?
and cleaning up my own blood from this red-stained carpet
just to cover your tracks
in hopes that one day there would be kisses in place of where these bruises once were
they tell kids from a young age
stay away from drugs
i should've listened to my mother.