Poetry

Letting You Go

“And my love, I don’t want to let you go.
It’s killing me just thinking about it.”

Sometimes I wonder if you’re nearby, watching me. I wonder if you’re concerned. I wonder if you’re happy. I wonder. But I can’t live like this any longer. I can’t keep thinking about what could have been if things were different. It’s not allowing me to move forward. It’s got me stalled. And my love, I don’t want to let you go. I don’t. It’s killing me just thinking about it. But I’m too weak to keep sitting up late at night aching for you. So maybe, if you’re there, tell me it’s okay to go on. Tell me it’s okay to let you go. Even if I can’t hear you, maybe, in some small part of me, I’ll feel that it’s okay. Maybe, that’ll be enough.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

Maybe, that’ll be enough.

Poetry

Shining Through

“I was made to rise above your labels.
Because like the sun, I was always
meant to shine through the dark.”

Savages. That’s what I call them. The ones that believe they can do anything and no one can stop them. The ones that think they have power. They are the ones that cause havoc. They try to break us, just for the pleasure of knowing they can.

But we are too strong for that. We were made to rise above them. Because the sun needs a place to shine through their darkness.

Maybe that’s why, deep down, they fear us. Maybe, that’s why they want to dominate us.

Maybe, that’s why they like to put labels on us. To make them feel superior.

Let them. We know where the power really is. And they can never take it from us.

We are made of survival.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

Maybe that’s why
they label us as witches.

 

Special thanks to Blood Into Ink
and Whisper And The Roar
for also publishing this piece
(here and here)
and giving my words
another place to rest.

Poetry

Hurt

“Though I am hurt, I can survive this.
I know I can.”

I’m hurt, darling. And I think what hurts the most is that, at some point, you stopped caring about me. Maybe it was distance. Maybe it was the time. Maybe it was me that finally pushed you away. And you let me. Though I am hurt, I can survive this. I know I can. It’s just going to take me a little time to figure out how.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

I will survive this, too.

Poetry

Playing Games

“I loved you. But I don’t know
if I ever mattered to you.”

How could I possibly explain how I feel if you don’t even see that you’ve done anything wrong at all? Can a person be that blind? Perhaps even narcissistic? Although, even for you, that seems harsh. But is it? Truly? Beneath the surface was that all I was to you? Is it possible to believe that others have never been hurt by this cycle?

Maybe you just don’t see. That’s the loyal part of me speaking. The part that feels like you were real. Genuine. That you were my friend. But I’ve been down this road before. I loved you. But I don’t know if I ever mattered to you.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

Or are we still playing
games of denials?

Poetry

I Am A Mask

“All I am is a mask, trying to cover
all this pain I feel.”

Sometimes, on the surface, I seem like a perfectly happy person with this perfectly happy life and a loving family. Though I don’t talk about them in detail much, I can say that my life is far from perfect. I still have pain every day. I still have habits I developed as a child as both a coping mechanism and an attempt at making myself undesirable by the man that abused me every night. Though that last part failed, the coping did help to an extent, which is probably why I still use it today. But mostly, underneath it all, I’m not just in pain. I’m suffering. The guilt I carry every day over what happened then, and what I carry now, for not being okay, is almost too much for me to bear. But I do it. And I will keep doing it for a long as it takes.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

It’s not just my family
that deserves normalcy,
but I deserve it too.
And that, right there
is a step in the right direction.
I deserve it too.

Poetry

Understand

“I guess, what I’m asking is,
do you even care to understand?”

Didn’t you know? I live with this pain every day. Not just emotional scars that seem branded into my memories. My personality. My entire being. It’s so much more than emotional pain. There’s physical pain as well. Like my body doesn’t know how to relax, no matter how much I tell myself that there’s no danger. No threat. My muscles remain tense, my senses on alert. Can you fathom how it feels to hold your own weight on your shoulders, never able to release? Can you fathom why I suffer so much? Why it felt like you ripped my heart from my chest and tossed it away, like it was a burden? I guess, what I’m asking is, do you even care to understand?

© Sarah Doughty
2018

Do you even care at all?

Poetry

My Ghost

“Darling, I’m lost without you.
You left me here in the darkness.”

Darling, I’m lost without you. Because, every time, I turn to you, and you’re like a ghost. I feel like I lost a limb when you left me in the darkness. And the hardest part is that you probably don’t even know what you’ve done.

And maybe that’s what you are. My ghost.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

You broke my heart.

Poetry

Making Sense

“Darling, nothing else makes sense
but you and me.”

Darling, nothing else makes sense but you and me. So please, tell me you’ll stay. Tell me you’re here. For the rest of our lives. Tell me that we will grow old and gray together. Tell me we will still be happy until our last days. Because, I could use a reminder now and again that you love me just as much as I love you.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

Reminders never hurt.
Always tell the one you love
how you feel.

Poetry

Fresh Start

“You are amazing. And no matter what,
you deserve to be loved.”

Let me start by saying you’re amazing. When it comes to love, well, love is love is love. No matter what you’ve been through, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be loved like the world begins and ends with you. It doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve to be happy. To be loved. To make a fresh start and live your life fulfilled.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

It’s never too late to start.

Poetry

Could Have Been

“And I hope you know how much
I wish things could have been.”

There is just something
about the calm of night.
It speaks to me
like a breath on the wind.
And sometimes.
Sometimes, I whisper back
in hopes that you’ll hear them
and know how much
I wish things could have been.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

What could have been.