STAINED RIBBONS

There are triggers, even today, more than 20 years later that create an uncontrollable reaction.

When triggered I become some strange Quinton Tarantino character acting in one of his famous satirical non-linear story lines. I just want to beat my head against the wall until all I feel is the wall’s unmovable strength and all I hear is silence.

Emotional wires get crossed, my blood pumps harder, my breath quickens, and I want to run away from everything.  It can be hearing the wrong person’s voice at the wrong time, passing someone who looks like someone else, old heartaches resurfacing in the most mundane of things… a picture, a song, a phrase.

Or maybe it’s a person who makes me feel safe and then they do something (it can be intentional or unintentional) and I don’t feel safe anymore.

It always comes down to one thing… a sense of betrayal.

It is that sense of betrayal that underlies everything wrong about me.

No matter how far I run some feelings never stop finding me.  Although I have made progress, I am still not strong enough to face my demons head on.

B6rSiZTCAAApL13.jpg large

I felt the betrayal

Crawl across my skin

A disease that killed

The person I could have been

Your eyes were black

Beacons of darkness

Drilling holes heart deep

The hatred you felt

Shredding my dignity

Into blood stained ribbons

Smiling at the

Smeared blemishes you left

Laughing in fact

At my absurd gullibility

A reminder to me

That trust is a mystery

That evil resides

In clever smiles

It cloaks itself

In pretty words

I am angry

That you are the one

I see in everyone else’s eyes

If I don’t keep fighting

My gravestone will read:

You are the one

I let destroy me

 

26 thoughts on “STAINED RIBBONS

  1. Once upon a time, the term trigger was associated with guns. (this is my perception based on my experience). With that said, it almost feels like life is a game of Russian roulette. I never know when the next trigger will set off the fatal bullet.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. When people betray you, they do it on a level that causes them more hurt than it should you. They were disloyal or cruel to you, and damaged a part of you, but destroyed a part of themselves. Unless, that is, you let what they did continue to haunt you. But do you think they were thinking of you or themselves when they did it? If an emotion has to last this long after heartache, let it be anger at them, not despair for yourself. I mean, neither would be even better… but if you have to pick one…

    Liked by 1 person

    • I think there is lots of anger…I think it is the fact I feel anger at all that really upsets me. Why can’t I just not feel anything? That would be so awesome and save me so much grief.

      It really is absurd how the strangest things will get to me. I mean literally I could be laughing, smiling, having a great time and ONE tiny thing will derail me. I don’t understand. I need to understand so it doesn’t keep happening.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. That’s harrowing and made my skin crawl. I also immediately assumed guilt (because that’s what I do).

    But again, you stun with the utterly relatable and very real of a hair trigger and suddenly being completely, utterly derailed. Hate when that happens. Hate more that it’s happened to you.

    *crosses fingers and hopes she isn’t culpable*

    Like

  4. I’m very much like you. Something happens, and it sets off a whole chain of emotions in a matter of seconds.

    I feel like we’re at the effect of too many outside events that we can’t control. Or, at least I am. It feels like being a pinball bounced around in a machine. I’d like to get a stronger foundation and stay more balanced. Less at the effect of outside events.

    Beautifully expressive poem.

    Like

  5. Come back up to Boston, and I’ll take on those demons for you, or at least be there with you through it. Or, you can simply call me anytime.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s