#THATSNOTLOVE

Hi, I'm Tanner.

When I was 15, I had my first love.

His name was Chase.

He wanted me because I made him chase me.

It was all about the chase.

I never dreamed that I would be considered a battered woman by the age of 16.

I mean what does that even mean?

How can they put one word on the feeling of blood bubbling in your throat when you've been kicked in the throat over and over and over?

How can they put a label on being called every bad word known to man?

How can they not know how he made me feel like nothing everyday for 2 years?

How can nobody know?

Is anybody there?

Can anyone hear my cries for help?

How do you go on once it's over?

My name is Tanner.

Who am I?

How do I walk into an interview feeling like the words STUPID, SLUT, DOORMAT, BITCH, and my personal favorite, NOBODY LOVES YOU are written across my forehead.

How do you find salvation when you've lost everything?

I did it, though.

I fought through the earth shattering screams that I wasn't good enough and learned the art of self-love.

I went through existential crisis and awakening and realized if nobody loved me, I had to love myself.

Once I could do that, I would find my soulmate and I did.

The soulmate I needed and longed for came into my life 2 years after chase destroyed mee, when I was 18.

A beautiful boy who bled the color yellow, spilled words of God and positivity, and looked like he would've been my favorite flower had he ever reincarnated showed up in my text messages for an entire year before i let him in.

But, when I did, sparks flew.

Love is not suppossed to be demeaning or hateful.

It's meant to spark.

Channing was my spark.

Ignite yours.

This poem is about: 
Me

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