behind door 202
trigger warning: domestic violence and assault
the hand that picked me up
at my lowest point is the same hand
that struck me to the ground
the same hands
that held me close at night
that wrapped me
in their gentle embrace
and made me feel safe
for the first time
are the same hands
that had me against a wall
by my neck, terrified
to move
or think
or fight back
the same hand that held mine
on car trips and in movie theaters
is the same hand leaving marks on my face
the same hands
the same lips
that kissed me gently
in the morning
healing the traumas my body
has known with every tender kiss
washing your love over every inch of me
these same lips
spit in my face and called me worthless
saying words so low
I couldn’t even think to say them if I tried
these lips hold a smile so bright
and a laugh so genuine that my heart
melts every time I think of them
I can’t even comprehend your actions
completely simply because
I don’t that kind of venom in my heart
a hole through our bedroom door
our bedroom door
quickly patched and painted
easy enough to fix
but the patch work is always visible
reminding me of this dark side of you
we built an entire life together, brick by brick
our trust and love and understanding
of one another, all within these walls
behind door 202.
this was our chance for peace and calm
this was our safe space, together
and you ruined it
how do I reconcile these two forms of you
how do I rationalize in my head
that these are not different people
but one in the same.
they seem too different to occupy the same vessel
a moment of numbness
another memory to process with my therapist.
written by Gaige Robinson | @gaige_robinson
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