The Unknowing Trauma Bond

Why was I so naive to try and befriend my eventual abusers?

Psychological violations were low-key

To my own brain and esteem

Shame on me, for only seeing their talent or their facades

No class ever taught me about gaslighting

Why was I so stupid thinking I could redeem them?

Saying sorry even for things that weren’t my fault

Became some kind of vicarious intent for these vampires

When I stood up on my own two feet

That’s where they wanted me to change my name to Billie Eilish (if she was relevant during those times, pardon the pun)

I might as well have been the son of Satan himself in their eyes

None of my peers went through what I went through

This arrested developmental was pure stealth in subterfuge

Hugging me while my back became a corporeal sheath to them

Those same parasites never had my consent when they got to my psyche

No AT Field was there to protect the cortex

Perpetual scapegoating…

Avoiding my judgmental glances…

It was a like those blizzard cyclones that plague New England even when those who control them flee to become a Northwesterner (Nor’Wester?)

I never saw agony in their beings. They might as well sing pop punk tunes and name a band after a Blink or Ataris ditty

#FirstWorldProblems is what their laments sound like

Stockholm got the better of my judgment and I never knew why

I’m sick of having to prove my worth, intelligence, and humanity to them, my own friends…

…and you.