yellowisacolor

Before Her

I\'m jealous of my old self..
The feeling is hard to describe.

Before Her, 
The only thing I cared about was when the next high was going to hit.

Before Her, 
I was alone. 
I felt empowered;
I didn\'t feel obligated to make anything of myself, 
And no one had expectations of me. 

People might say that\'s sad,
But in the moment,
It was a breath of fresh air:
I had the freedom to just exist.

I was numb and depressed. 

...

I wish I didn\'t care about anything now. 

Before Her, 
I didn\'t have someone to tell me that I\'m beautiful.
I didn\'t have someone to tell me that I mattered.
I didn\'t have someone who wanted me to live.

Before Her,
I had someone tell me my life didn\'t matter 
And no one loved me.
I had someone who told me I was a piece of shit 
And no one cared.
I had someone tell me I was the ugliest thing they\'d ever seen.

Before Her,
I had someone who threw everything I owned into the bathtub,
And poured bleach over it. 
I had someone who threw dishes at my head,
And laughed.

Before Her,
I had someone crush my hand in the door;
Because I turned my back to them-
To let my dog inside.

Before Her,
I had someone who beat me for being five minutes late.
I had someone who knocked me out,
And did what he wanted.

Before Her, 
I had someone who ridiculed me
While punching me until I couldn\'t see.
I had someone who literally kicked me while I was down,
Until my ribs were so bruised I could barely walk. 

Before Her,
I had someone who would hold a gun to my chest;
And dare me to speak.
I had someone who pulled the trigger on a loaded gun,
But was too drunk to actually hit me with a bullet. 

Before Her,
I was beaten for simply existing
Around the wrong person.

...

Before Her,
I wasn\'t free from a monster,
But I was free from caring. 
Before Her, 
I didn\'t care to live
Because my life wasn\'t worth living.

...

With Her,
My life is worth living,
But my mind exhausts me. 

With Her,
Everyday is a battle;
My mind wants me to die. 
It wants to feel pain. 

With Her,
My life is free from a monster,
But suffocated with care.

...

I\'m jealous of my old self;
Not for the abuse,
But for the high of not caring.