My heart breaks for you. My body yearns for you.

And my mind has only hate for you.

Bethany

The Truth of the Monster

I thought I had found the man, third time’s the charm right?

You looked at me with something in your eyes – something other than lust.

Wanting something more than domination, manipulation, and control.

But you ripped me apart, leaving a bloody mess.

 

I became yours for the taking – I felt dirty.

You never asked for consent and you didn’t stop when I said no.

Only physical force saved me – my physical force.

Once again I was violated by a man who wanted to be a pastor.

 

I blamed myself for every girl after me – every one who you hurt next.

But I wouldn’t let the monster of what you did escape from my lips.

I wouldn’t let the bile rise up – I swallowed it down.

I prayed that the others are fine and that no more will be hurt.

 

I justified what you did to me and to them.

Over and over I justified the things you did.

But then some days my head is clear from your grasp.

And I know – I know that what you did can’t be justified.

 

So one day my mind was crystal clear.

And I made my choice in that clarity.

Phone calls were made and cars were borrowed.

A long night in the police station after hours.

 

So I told – I opened my mouth and the monster came out.

The dark mess came out slowly, then all at once, like bile I couldn’t keep down.

I told the police but I didn’t want charges.

I wanted a record for those after me, for those who might come.

 

But then I went back and I told home – our home – yours and mine.

Because even there I needed there to be a something for those to come after me.

I knew there were some to come – I was the frontrunner.

I was the trailblazer for those hurt by you.

 

I told and the monster came out in our home.

Bile rising up – tears pouring out.

I spoke those words you begged me not to.

The truth burned out – I don’t know if even I could have stopped them.

 

In the end even you – even you admitted it.

No punishments happened to you, not a single one.

And I was the one who received the backlash.

Maybe that was the truth of the monster.

Bethany

Don’t Get Too Close: It’s Dark Inside

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When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

– Imagine Dragons

So my anger and pain finally caught up to me and I wrote “to” the guy who sexually assaulted me and who I tried to get justice against. I feel like a horrible person. I feel crazy. I feel ridiculous. But this is what’s inside. My pain and my horrid disgusting inability to forgive. My problem with playing victim. My demons. So here they are; no more hiding.

Letters to Carson: Day 1 through Day 40

Here’s to My Sun and The Girl Who Tried To Cover it Over

 

Do I miss missing you?

I missed you

I missed you until I realised

you considered me the hurricane

and I missed you until

I realised you

eclipsed my sun

so the darkness could perennially hold me

and I missed you until today

until I realised I deserve better

than moody days and teary nights

I missed you when I knew

you thought the worst of me,

but now we have bad blood

all over our hands

and the wound has festered

and I realised you were the salt

all the pain was because of you.

It wasn’t healed by you because you don’t even know

how to heal yourself.

I missed you then,

but how can I now,

knowing that?

Jo

So this is a poem written by a girl about my best friend Serah, because she decided Serah was “too depressed” to be friends with. She went on rants and raves about how Serah was a manipulative selfish person, when Serah sent this girl $200 to help pay her rent and was always, always there for her no matter what. She refused to take her poem down, even though I asked her very kindly, and instead of answering me, she decided to go on a rant about how people should just not read it if they don’t like it. However I find it to be slander. So here’s my response.

Here’s to My Sun and The Girl Who Tried To Cover it Over

Here’s for you
because you deserve more
You deserve more
than to be left
You deserve more
than to be blamed
for what you can’t control
You are kind
and so selfless
Lioness roaring
so strong and beautiful
The girl who taught me
I was beautiful and deserving
Who stepped in
and became my mother
Protective and loyal
how you do it
I can’t fathom
You have been to hell
and back
Nothing has broken you
when many would have fallen
long before now
Here’s for you
the girl made of love
So here’s my response
my reply
About the girl who gives it all
to the girl who gave her nothing
but hurt and pain
The girl who became
the bully on the playground
Pushing those they liked around
because they can’t handle
what they feel
Who was truly toxic
not the other way
Who was too selfish
to be there for those in need
And blamed everyone
but themselves

So here’s to the two
friends once but no more
To the two on opposite sides
one compassionate
The other unable
to feel the empathy
like a friend
Here’s to the two
the wrong and the right
The green toxin
and physical representation of love

Bethany

Let the Fury Rage

My reason for living wasn’t because I didn’t want to let my friends and family down. Although I didn’t want to, that wasn’t enough for me. What kept me alive was the people telling me to end my life. I burned with a passion. My fury raged within me. I would never give them the satisfaction of ending my life. I’m going to grow. I’m going to be so much better than they ever were.

My anger kept me alive until another day when I could be happy again.

Bethany

My Own Words

“Never run back to what broke you.” (Bigballofwibblywobbly)

171,090 notes. They’re my own words. At least 85,545 people agree with me. (Unless of course someone is obsessively reblogging it.) Those are my very own words. Yet why can’t I follow them?

I can’t stay away from the thing, the very person, who broke me. He hurt me. He broke me. He shattered me. Yet I run back to him. Every time I run back.

I ran back again, and he used me. He tried to destroy me. He tried to get my college campus to believe that I was a slut who threw myself at him. I didn’t. Pictures of me, sent to him because he was badgering me, are being passed around. Everyone knows and many have seen. So I’m done.

I will listen to my own words, and never, ever, run back to what broke me. Him. 

Bethany