“The world is always gonna be beautiful, but sometimes it’s covered in ugly.” – Hennessy Echemendia


Fiction. Based on a true fear.

by Amanda Springob

This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

Trigger Warning: our program often motivates people to discuss their trauma. If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, please, take a step back to address emotional flashbacks and trauma before continuing to push yourself. If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or the National Suicide Hotline at (1-800) 273-8255.




Your voicemails live inside my phone

Evidence that I should leave alone

Your words still shock me like a crime scene

That gravel voice that will always haunt me


I flash back to the night I left your place

That thousand-yard stare upon your face

I think of the cops and the threats and the calls

How I couldn’t sleep through most of last fall.


I was tortured by the whole ordeal

And you had the nerve to make an appeal

I had all the evidence of your truest form

You lied to the judge like it was the norm


In the end I won the battle we fought

Except sometimes it feels all for naught

I sit here at night with voicemails in my phone

Reminders of when you wouldn’t leave me alone


When it comes down to it, it’s just paper

Not a guarantee that I’m any safer

Though I hold the restraining order

I still check behind every corner


And the evidence is mine to hold onto forever

To show people the truth, in case you get clever

I hold the proof that shows your crazy

And I try to act like it never fazed me


But at night when I lay here on my own

I wait for the day when you’re out of my phone

But you’re unpredictable, scary, and hence

That’s why I’m saving the evidence.

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