He is a razor.
His eyes piercing mine.
His voice cutting into my mind.
His words slicing through every part of me.

No. Nononononono.
He’s angry.
His voice is going to be dark.
His eyes are going to be blazing.
His words are going to be cold.
His hands will be pain.

His gaze burns in my eyes.
It sears into my mind,
Like a sword just pulled from the mold.
It freezes me in place,
Keeping me from escaping or fighting back.

His voice cuts through me.
Usually gentle and soft,
It feels like sandpaper being shoved against me.
Deep and angry, almost like a growl.
He does growl when he says my name.

His words slash away my resolve.
He rips me apart, destroying everything.
I’m manipulative. I’m mean.
I’m just a whiny little bitch.
His words tear away anything positive,
Until nothing is left but loathing.

His hands slice into me, unforgiving and merciless.
They pierce my lungs, making breath impossible.
They rip into my stomach, unbearably painful.
They throw me lifeless to the wall,
letting me crumble to the ground.

Phoenix is a 20 year old nonbinary writer and student at Lane. They experienced an incredibly physically and emotionally abusive relationship at 14, which ended up being a catalyst for their previously undiagnosed mental illnesses. They’ve since gone to therapy and come very far from who they were at the time, having moved cities and made a lot of progress on themself in and out of therapy.

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