Freed from the Dark Hole of Hate
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Did you know the cavernous pit you dug into me, with your blows and slaps and curses? Did you know how the cuts they made fired sharp pangs through my body, into my soul, and tore out a part of my being?
I see your face, with lines of flesh contorted to dark, ferocious ugliness, the thick vast heights and depressions of a forehead of trembling ridges, spitting out sweat and rage, a volcano bathing the world around it with the acrid plumes of death. It rumbled and hissed, with your sinews shifting at the stirring of the hate you had for me.
And I was drowned in that molten, toxic, all consuming sea you spewed forth. It was slippery, like the ground soaked in our sweat mingled, like the things that slipped through my lips on those nights: my pleas, my prayers, my blood.
Did you know how, with your every lunge and punch, you broke my fragile hopes that living was worth trying out? After every one of those times your verbal tirades smashed me to smithereens, I had to gather up the dust and splinters of myself, and patch them into something resembling my former beauty. The beauty you said you saw the first time our gazes interlocked. I had to gather it all up for you. Did you know?
Perhaps you do. Maybe you don't. But there's more you ought to know, more that I think you're oblivious of.
Did you know that flowers have blossomed atop the remains of dead fields? Do you know that droughts, however long they last and regardless of their intensity- do you know that they eventually end, and that the rains always come back again?
The times in which you emptied your failings on me as kicks and batterings could never last. The abyss you dug in my soul is filling up. I see now that I do not have to quake at the rise and fall of your heaving volcanoes, I do not need to collapse at the advance of your tantrums. Our sweat mustn't mingle in conflict. I can extricate mine from yours. I can. I have.
With this knowing, the dark clouds over my skies have parted, the rays of hope and freedom are breaking through, and my hands and feet sweep through the air with great excitement. It is sheer joy, of the sort I suspect you have not known in a long, long while.
Did you know that you can emerge from that black hole you held me in for days, months and years- the one in which you still languish, the one you falsely think should be filled with others, so that they become objects you can impose shared suffering upon? Did you know that you can choose to not detest a human being?
Do you know you can leave the dark hole of hate behind?