“Why did you stay?” “You really know how to pick em”
-You’re right, I stayed because those long nights of shaking to death weren’t enough for me to leave.
I stayed because being on constant alert was exhilarating.
I stayed because the cuts on my arms were enough for me to feel loved.
I stayed because I enjoyed feeling guilty over crying.
I stayed because not sleeping for four nights straight was better than actually connecting with any sense of sanity.
I stayed because I enjoyed being torn down.
I stayed because walking on eggshells made it easy to communicate to others.
I stayed because isolation was perhaps the highlight of the whole relationship.
I stayed because feeling responsible for a death was romantic.
I stayed because I love feeling unworthy of any variable of love.
I stayed because rape was my new norm.
I stayed because rape was his salvation.
I stayed because the chains had such a strong hold on my ankles.
After all, it’s hard to scream abuse when his hands prevent me from doing so.
Staying wasn’t a choice.
Staying was a command;
An unwritten testament.