i play the victim

to feign innocence

as the world crashes down

and my hands are printed in red

it's obvious but i try to hide it

with pleading eyes and a tear streaked face

so i don't feel so alone

isolated with the thoughts that brought me here

to the running and crying and screaming

all my fault

but

i

can

pretend-

I live to be the victim

born with a depression

I will later blame on my mother

not present to defend herself

to a body that

in utero

had only wanted

for us both to survive together

-“Why do you always play the victim?”

Why do you keep playing the victim?

The one who’s lost it all.

The one who gets blamed for everything.

You don’t know what it’s like to be a victim.

You don’t know what it’s like to walk in groups,

Because you fear what someone might do to you.

You don’t know what it’s like to dress in a certain way,

So that you don’t attract too much attention.

Don’t play the victim when you have no idea,

The pain I know and the things I shouldn’t have to fear.

My words are chosen in specific ways,

So I don’t offend gentle egos.

My anxiety varies throughout the day.

When it’s day, I know that I can scream and be seen,

But at night I’m in a defensive mindset,

I’m prepared to protect myself.

Don’t call yourself a victim.

Victims walk down the street carrying knives for protection.

Why do I play the victim?

Because It's all a bit of fun until somebody gets hurt

and who's gives a fuck about my nightmares?

But it's no use in screaming when they're right there

Because no one cares

You go ahead and get some sleep I'll take the night shift

yeah, just pretend like I don't exist

Everybody's on the brink of crisis

I'm so used to feeling like this

No one gives a fuck about my nightmares

But it's nothing you should worry yourself about

Why do I keep playing the victim?

God.

I wish I knew.

It's all I've ever known.

This pain.

I don't know where I acquired it,

but it found me,

at birth.

Bore with a heavy heart.

It has taken me so long,

to realise,

the toxicity of these patterns,

but I'm ready to change.

To use myself in a more positive manner.

Creating

not destroying.

Building.

No longer the victim

I will play.

This is life.

It's a game,

but I'm choosing a new story,

a new role to play.

tell me, my love, was it fun

to see me weep to see me bleed

for you

all for you for your love

tell me, was it amusing, to

see your paint

red and blue and red and purple all over

my body your canvas

fingers entwined with the devil, sly

smile full of pearl white teeth

your blood blacker than your words

and then red, red, red, all i see is red

on me on you

on the carpet on the

walls so thick no one

hear my screams

until...until...

it's too late

take me

my lungs my skin my

heart all yours my love ALL YOURS

THAT'S ALL YOU EVER WANTED, ISN'T IT

SO TAKE THEM WITH YOU

RID ME OF THESE SINS THESE MISTAKES THESE

FEELINGS I ONCE CALLED LOVE

NOW DROWNED BY THE GUILT

your phantom touch

all over me all over

the body you once painted your love on

i can feel your caress

your cold, dead breath

on these hands tainted with blood.

your blood

you remember don't you, my love?

that look in your dead dead soulless eyes

those last words you uttered:

"why do you keep playing the victim?"

Why do you

Keep playing the victim?

When you are the one

Causing yourself

All this pain?

Only you to blame

For those scars on your heart,

Making decision to keep

One unworthy love

In your life.

You have the power

To release yourself

From these chains

That shackle your future

To a significant other

Who is undeserving

Of all the love

You have to offer.

Why do you

Keep playing the victim

When you have the power

To change the circumstances

And run away?

‘No,’ said Susie.

‘Well then I’m going home!’ said Hannah.

‘It’s my birthday. Stay. You can be the patient.’

‘You don’t want that!’ said Hannah. ‘You’re just saying it.’

Susie blushed and handed over the bandages.

‘I can’t do it.’

‘Put your arm out.’ Susie wrapped up Hannah’s arm.

‘Hannah! What are you doing? I told you...’

‘Mom!’ Hannah struggled as her mum took the bandages off her.

‘Play another game, kids.’

‘My mom hates bandage games.’

‘Your mom hates games!’

‘No!’

‘Why do you always play the patient, Hannah?’

‘I asked Susie. I want to.’

‘I don’t trust Susie. You should be the doctor or nurse. You don’t want to be sick, again.’

‘It’s just a game, mommy.’

‘Mommy’s worried.’

“Why do you always play the victim,” I said, hoping to pierce his ever-so-cold heart. A tear cutting through already half-cried-through make-up. His eyes look so intensely at mine, but I refuse to look at him, I tear my eyes away from the face I had tried to hard to keep happy. In the softest tone, he said with a trembling voice,“Why do I play the victim? Me? Do you not see that you’ve played with my heart... my emotions.. from the day we met. Everything you asked for... you got. Everything you’ve ever wanted... I provided. You never once took the time to even thank me.” He started to to cry. This is the first time I ever seen him cry, it seems so real, but I don’t believe his tears. I refuse to believe it. “Really? Then why are you always gone doing God-knows-what? You’re probably with some other girl, who’s prettier and skinnier than me.” He seemed so confused with my question. “Baby, I love you. I would never get with another girl. I’ve been working my ass off to take care of you. To provide... for us. I am am hurt by the thought that you think I would be with another girl. You’re my world. Do you know how many tears I cried for you? How many sleepless nights I not slept thinking of all the ways I’m failing you? You’ve left me twice for other guys. When they didn’t give you what you wanted, you came crawling back to me knowing I’m going let you back in... knowing that I’m vulnerable.” He trembles at the last words of that sentence. His emotion seem so raw. He inches towards me. 5 feet...4...3... 2... 1... He wraps his arms around me. “Promise me,” he stops, studying my face,“promise me you won’t leave again. Promise me you’ll stay. I can’t bare to lose you. Not again.” The heat of his fingertips warmed my face. He cradles my neck, but doesn’t lean in. My eyes fixed on his ocean-blue eyes that I had once drowned in. I could feel the emotion behind them staring intently at me. He wiped my tears with his thumbs. I couldn’t help but to feel his love for me. I knew at this moment that I had been ignoring the emotion that he’d been trying to get me to see. I felt all the love that I had been burying jump to life. I stutter,“I- I promise, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you felt like that. I love you.” I bury my face in his chest, my arms wrapping tightley around is toned abdoment. I pull my face away and look into his eyes and study his face. He has this kind smile that makes my knees quiver. I wish he’d kiss me and forget this arguement ever happened. As if he heard what I was thinking, he gentley pressed his lips against mine. One hand on my lowerback and the other cradling my head. Fresh minty taste from his tounge burned the tip of my tounge. As I returned the favor with a gentle bite of his lip, he puts both hands on the back of my thighs and lift me up. “Bad idea.” His smirk said it all. He lays me on the bed and kisses my lips and progresses down my neck. I could feel the warmth of his love as is warmed the kissed skin. I remembered why I loved him, and I will never mistake it again.