TAINTED LOVE


Thank you all for coming out and listening.
There is no denying we all have our own battles we're facing.
Give us our own venue, and we'll free the blues from our souls.
So thank you all for being here to help us do such.
Here's a blank page, and, I think, I can write about anything.
I can take us all away to a World of endless possibilities.
I can make everyone in this room feel like a fucking billionaire.
But something tells me that's not what I'm here for.
My voice didn't mean much to me until it was taken away.
At that point, I was silenced.
Silenced by the dead of the night like I had nothing at all to say.
"I just don't want to be hit anymore" was the only sentence that remained.
Yeah, my voice can tell tales of places real shitty.
Where my hands scratch at the wall of a long hallway for my life I'm clinging.
The disease of a man I love was dragging me by both my ankles down an office hallway.
It was like a horror movie playing, and I was so helpless.
This was the night I was saved (Thank you Mom) for the last time.
That never happened to me again.
Now I stand on the other side.
And I see how hard it is for us to speak.
I see how hard it is for us to hold onto dear life.
We're no longer grabbing walls, but our mouths are still locked.
Are we survivors or are we still victims?
Are we drops in the Ocean or have we been lead to a deep, dark murky lake?
You tell me, do you find the darkness inescapable?
She stood abruptly.
I've had enough!
I will not be silenced, so shut up!
You used Love against me, but I was tough.
One day I realized this isn't love.
I grabbed the Moon as the stars screamed,
TAINTED LOVE get away from me I demanded.
Love the World unconditionally.
I had to write this over my closet.
I was so angry I could have hated everything.
I wrote it, so I wouldn't forget.
In permanent marker, it reminded me the World wasn't all shit.
It reached into my heart and opened me back up.
It told me my anger at the World I would rather stop.
It made my happy again like the sentence's letters were my uppers.
Had I not wrote it, I'd still be saying fuck you World with my middle finger upward.
Wait a minute.
Love the World unconditionally, really?
But who loved me?
I don't see love realistically.
The last one to love me was consumed by his demons.
He was a good man who lost touch with his grasp on reality.
I was the young girlfriend who felt utterly inferior.
The disease took hold of him, and nothing he feared of the World was even real.
When I tried to speak up with the facts, it aroused the disease's anger.
I realized there were three people in the relationship.
Mental illness was his mistress.
But then who was leaving bruises all over my face and body?
At what point do I stop loving the man under the disease under any condition?
I don't know; don't ask me, he's not my boyfriend.
What do I do when nobody will really listen?
Everybody just jumps to me leaving.
It being that easy is truly my favorite fantasy.
Walking out that door like I wasn't being beaten by my boyfriend's disease.
Dodging the target of his disease's anger would be my ecstasy.
Saying no to drugs because I'm too afraid the bad memories will get too excited.
Just let the lovin' take ahold.
My brain misinterpreted what that meant.
My life had a different association.
Love for me had a different meaning.
Love and me had some violent meetings.
So now I'm a little closed up.
But can you blame me?
My World of Love got pretty fucked up.
What would you have done?
My brain did the opposite of my old answer to that question.
I would have thought I'd leave right at the start of abuse, but instead I didn't.
My story is unique, but at the same time similar, as I stood silent in the face of love's violence.
But not forever caught because here I am speaking tonight.
I'm un-silencing myself so that others will too.
I hope my voice has released the chains locking down the silence in you.
And I hope to hear your story about how you fought away the darkness sometime very soon.
~ Thank you.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem