Hey guys!!! I was going over some morbid poems on the net, and I was like, "I need to wrie this!"
But, on a serious note, this is deticated to my cousin's friend. She died by an abusive boyfriend. He killed her, and was sent to death row. When you finish reading this, just spend 5 seconds of your time to think about her. Please. Thank you.
I'm sorry.
His hand is wrapped around my neck, a knife in the other—I know I don't have much time. Being a girlfriend in this abusive relationship has brought this to me.
I'm sorry.
I betrayed your trust, and I deserve this. You trusted me, and I let you down. I ruined your only chance at love, and I threw myself into a false one.
And yet, I couldn't leave.
I was so deep in shit, so deep into his web, that I truly believed that he loved me. and I loved him.
And yet, it was all a dream. A lie. Something that I wanted to be true, and yet wanted to be over. A nightmare.
I'm sorry.
We ruined our friendship, our trust for each other. I tore apart those photos of us together, laughing when a butterfly would land on my nose. Crying when a sad story was told. Playing as the hot autumn sun blasted full force on us, giving us mild sunburns to laugh about later. I tore apart the photos, but those memories were so engraved into my mind that photos were nothing.
I was close to suicide before he stepped in. I was close to killing myself after my actions towards her. After she was hospitalized for trauma and scars that would never heal, I wanted to kill myself. There was never a second of a day when the thought of blasting my brains out, the image of me hanging from the ceiling fan, the morbid feeling of a cold blade being dragged across my skin, was in my mind. But, he came. He came, and kissed me. Held me. Hugged me when it was right, and whispered in my ear when I needed him most. He gave me feelings that dispatched all of those suicide thoughts to the back of my mind.
And then I broke is heart. I left him for this.
When he wasn't around, he might play with my hair, pop my bra straps—signal to me that he wanted me. And soon, I wanted him too. I left him behind, and packed my bags for the one-way bus to hell.
He would usually shout at me when he was drunk, and sometimes even when he wasn't. He would push me against the wall screaming that I was a stupid slut who couldn't do a thing. He even went a far as shoving a gun to my forehead. Then, all of a sudden, he would gain his conciseness, and cry. He would break down. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." He would sob. He would hug me close, and kiss me, begging for me to forgive him.
And I always did. I always let him threaten me. I always fell back in love with him. I never really thought about the immense hatred that would run throughout my body when he'd scream at me. I never thought about the image of me killing him with the very gun he held to me that seemed to always pop up whenever he'd push me against the wall.
I was blind…and this is my punishment.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry to my ex, who I still adore, and love. I'm sorry to my ex BFF, who I still want to hug, and make up with. I'm sorry to my friends who always warned me about him, and the scars he would leave.
I'm sorry.
I deserve this.
Will you forgive me in death? Or will I even be despised in death? As I rot in the dirt grave they will surely bury me in—if he didn't just hide my body—will you still hate me, and be glad that I died?
I'm sorry. I was living a dream…
Until this nightmare came.
Giselle. That's her name. If you want to, just say it, and be on your way. Just to remember a good friend, and a victim of an abusive relationship.
Thank you, everyone.
