It Doesn’t Get Better by Raven

One
I remember writing late at night 
Scared of sleeping, etching another
“It’ll be okay” onto a blank page
Another heartfelt “We’ll get through this.”
While starting at my own hands, disconnected
“What does breathing feel like?” 
Unaware of the own rise and fall of my chest
“What does a bed feel like?”
Because right now I feel as if I’m floating 
“Who am I?”
Because right now all I can see is who she is
From the outside, disconnected from the body
That was supposedly my own 

Two
Do you ever feel as if you’re living within the third person?
The feelings in your fingertips just as numb
As the thoughts race in your head 
“What even is real anymore?”
As I expertly fabricate another 10 realities in my head
So vividly as if I could feel, touch, and live within them
Different from the one that was said to be real

Three
But I mean, what do you mean they’re not real?
What do you mean I’m not secretly an alien waiting for them to come back for me and take me away?
What do you mean I’m not a princess in the princess protection program just waiting to go back to my kingdom?
What do you mean that I’m not being trained to be a spy and this is just an elaborate ruse?
What do you mean I’m not isolating because I am Emily Dickinson reborn? 
What do you mean I’m not a witch that just hasn’t gotten her Hogwarts letter yet?
What do you mean this isn’t just a simulation or a game that I got sucked into? 
What do you mean this isn’t just a nightmare I forgot to wake up from? 
What do you mean I’m not secretly hated by everyone? 
What do you mean I’m not happy to be alone? 
What do you mean that my dad isn’t normal and that he doesn’t love me just the way a father should? 
What do you mean those realities can’t be real?
When the reality I’m living in feels 10x more false

Four
Nobody ever really talks about it, but it doesn’t get better 
At least not at first 
We are told about this light at the end of the tunnel
The end of it all, the great escape, the elusive idea 
Of freedom finally being caught within our grasp
“It’ll all be over.” 
Right, it will be; at least we think it will

Five
Until we realize the slimy residue left from it all
Is much more than excruciating physical pain
It’s not just a depression that sinks in 
As if life isn’t even worth living anymore 
It’s not just an anxiety over who will hurt you next 
It Is A Neverending Mental Hell, and just as you think
That you have finally escaped it all, it pulls you back in
With the question of 
“Who even are you?”
 not even aware of what it means to be you, and no, this isn’t a 
“I am who they want me to be in order to make them like me.” 
This is a “I am who they tell me to be because I feel like I have to be.” 
And then people put you in this box, thinking that they know you
When you never even knew how to be yourself in the name 
For dancing around secrets, daddy told you to stash under your bed
So who are they even to tell you who you are, but then as if your complaints
Are insults they pull out the phrase “pathological liar” as if you mean nothing?
Like you’re worthless and evil for the identity they robbed from you
So yes, “I am who you tell me to be” because I have no choice other than to be
Because then if I’m not, then I’m “a liar” rather than “a victim.”  
What was even the point of helping her escape? 
When you lock her within another prison, 
Called perception 

Six
Then if that wasn’t enough, let’s talk about the collateral damage 
Every person that gets hurt by you because of how they hurt you
You don’t even realize you’re doing it because to you, to me, 
This is our normal 
This is our love
This is our protection
This is what we were taught 
We were fed platters of gaslighting 
And nursed on manipulation 
We were laid in cradles of no boundaries
And suckled on silent treatment & love-bombing
Our wings clipped before we realized we even had them
“To be controlled or to control”, what an interesting thought
But we all know that to be controlled is to let them do it again
So to stop others from hurting me, controlling me, leaving me
I learned to do what it was that I was taught 

Seven
Funny how we are told to just forgive and move on
It doesn’t matter if it’s real or not 
While every time we pull from it
It comes chasing after us again
In our mistakes
In our fears
In our dreams
In our relationships
In our way of love 
In our perception of self
In our sexuality 
In our relationship to our body
In our connection to our family 
In our friendships that we lost 
In our isolation, keeping their secrets
And they never have to live with it, happy to love the fantasy
That was our bodies, our minds, our lives that were no longer our own
Stolen before we got to grow into our own sense of self
Robbed before we got to learn what it was to love and be loved 

It feels zombie-like almost, pretending this is just okay
Then we pretend to be alive within the conceptualization 
Of who everybody else told us to be, or said that we should be
Ignoring the little girls and the little boys who never got to grow up
Or live for themselves, love for themselves, be themselves for themselves

I’m done pretending it gets better 
Because truth is that it doesn’t 
We just learn to live with it
Because we have to 
Justice seemingly unobtainable for a crime with no trace
Forced to be silent and happy 
In the prison we were forced to live in
No choice but to let the others write the script

For ourselves

…

Never free

Just convinced we are

Simply because it’s over

But it’s never truly over

Not when it lives within

You

~ Raven 📖