I’ve been used more times than I can recall,
hit several times too many,
and had my heart broken more times than there are numbers to count with.
The bruises on my arms are still visible,
a reminder of all the pain I’ve known,
and the cuts on my wrists are failed attempts to forget it.
Sometimes at night I wake up screaming,
my mind filled with images I can’t erase,
memories I can’t let go,
and until the sun rises I’ll lie awake,
scared of my unconscious thoughts.
Then all day I’ll spend,
slowly tracing the course of my self-inflicted wounds,
remembering what caused each of them.

But then,
when I’m with you,
all of that disappears,
and it is as though none of my past ever happened;
I was never hurt just for existing,
never had an alcoholic father,
was never in an abusive relationship.
I forget the existence of the world,
and sometimes the necessity of breathing.
Nothing else matters when I’m with you,
nothing but you and I.