She was toxic.

We were blamed

For simple things,

Like internet going out,

And traffic.

Things we couldn’t control.

She was toxic.

Manipulation was her superpower.

Always at her disposal.

The aftereffect was guilt,

Which I often felt.

I was vulnerable to her.

She was toxic.

For years, I skipped out on fun.

No birthday parties.

No sleepovers.

No fun,

All because of her.

She was toxic.

As the years passed,

She started to lose her grip on me.

Extracurriculars allowed me to escape,

From those depressing weekends.

My first job did too.

I was only scheduled for the weekends.

There was no way around it.

She tried to get me to quit,

But my gut told me “don’t listen.”

I was distancing myself.

She was losing her control,

But she was still toxic.

Even though I stayed away,

As much as I could,

The years of bottled emotions,

Filled my mind constantly.

Therapy and meds helped,

But only a little.

I needed a way to express myself.

But what would I do,

To express all the years when

She was toxic?

A writing class showed me the answer.

Poetry helped me.

When I got the flow of it,

Words just poured out on paper.

For the first time in years,

I could sleep peacefully at night.

I was happier.

I am happier.

It also helped me put my foot down,

Permanently cutting her out of my life.

Without poetry,

My new way of expressing myself,

I might not have been able to do it.

She was toxic,

But I found the strength in poetry,

To get away and restart.