“On the coast of Malaysia there was a woman… [who] got her heart broken. She decided… she was going to go into the jungle and let the tiger devour her… [but when] the tiger finds her… it walks away and she… starts chasing after it.”
-St. Brendan of Tigercide.
Fiction. Based on a True Relationship.
By Nikki Wicz
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.
For three years he was my razor blade.
At first, he was sharp, the pain
Felt like elation.
But as time went by, his edge
Dulled and I was dragging him
Over dry, calloused skin
That only broke from the tension.
He started cutting up lines, instead
Of me, and fell in love with the high.
I’ve never seen him work a day in his life,
Harder than he did to lie to me.
He didn’t want to hurt me.
And there’s no nice way to trash
A boyfriend, but it’s easy to throw away
An old razor, so I moved on to a hammer.
That crashed into me, leaving his mark
Anywhere he found space.
And when I was covered, he said
He loved me, but I was afraid, and
At some point, I decided I wanted
To be stitched up, to let the bruises
Lighten. At some point, I realized
I was tired
Of hurting. At some point, I noticed
The hands reaching down, offering