A Statistic

She sleeps with secrets, pain and shame,

And all her emotions feel the same

She don’t even answer to her own name

She says ’’ just call me a statistic babe’’


Says I could die so easily

Just give up ever so quietly,

I’ve sold my freedom

my mind

my air.

Send this letter to my parents’

If they even care


It reads-

''Threw away my future

Dumped it like a stolen car

Now I’m chasing down shots in a dirty bar

When my old life just seems too far

Too far to go back to and too far to regain

Now I look at my world

And know everything has changed''

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Normally I don't comment on anything I write, but I felt this was important to note. I found this poem from a while back, when I was living with a man in an abusive relationship. I was very said that night, thinking about how I had moved away from my family and friends, how much I missed my old life, how far removed I felt from my true self, and happiness. I wrote this feeling like I couldn't escape, but knowing that one day I would do. Eventually I did, and now I am back home away from that man, and almost a year out of my hell. For anyone reading this, it is possible to leave, if you have it in your heart, you can do it. I hope this helps someone out there. Much love, always. R X

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