Between cigarettes
There must be some regret
I can’t deal with you now

You bring loneliness
With empty promises
And the promise of child

It’s getting cold, she said
You never were impressed
There’s a lesson here somehow

Always late for bed
It’s the consequence
Of figuring you out

Always wrong, you plead
But it was you instead
Doing all of the wrong





I’ve stood his shoes,
I’ve watched him cry
I’ve heard him tell
A thousand lies
With broken hearts
his alibis
Ghostly spirits,
severed ties
All with smile
And charming eyes
The devil claimed
Another prize
Softly kneeling,
While he’s killing
Wrapped and bound
is so damn thrilling-
His trickery too.
But watch that snake
He has no feelings
While he’s smothering you

#amwriting #gettingoveryou #ophidian

This is raw. One year amongst the remains.


I realize now that it has been a year nearly to the day when I went no contact from you. My heart is still broken. But it’s been breaking since the very first time you hurt me. And each time after. And you know the things you did. I’m still trying to process and heal from all the emotional & mental damage you caused.

I still have all these virtual things of our times together, too. I don’t know what to do with them. And I don’t look at them. I don’t listen. But they haunt me. You haunt me. I can’t even look at that girl. I don’t know who she was. I was lost and in hell. You made my life hell and on purpose. See, that’s the part that really gets me. It’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that you are a sociopath. Others are coming to see.

You nearly destroyed me in those 4 years.

I guess when you think you love a devil, the devil will change. Empaths want to change the world, nurture it, give it love. Tame it. Free it. Love it.

Instead, we find ourselves breaking & changing & becoming lost. No voice, no place of refuge, no safety in our minds.

What an interesting specimen you are though, once I can dissect it all. You are the bottom feeder of hell.

I really don’t think Lu wants you there.

Whatever you are, it’s connected me to who I am. You are a special kind of sick. You gave me Pandora’s Box, I peered inside, I’ve seen the abyss and I know how evil abides. YOU’RE FUCKED.

One day, the evidence surfaces.

And doctors can study your behavior.

I encourage more of your enemies to reach out to me (as they already have). Their privacy will always be respected, but not yours.

Their support has been so appreciated.

Damn, 1 year. One fucking year free from you. From the physical you. But the rest of me is still getting on.

Again, thank you for reminding me that evil exist. I see the world differently now. I remember the pure. I am pure. A true Goddess. I had forgotten her. ♡

#survivingabuse #IwillNotBeSilent #nocontact #1yearfree

There must have been a thousand girls…There now must be a thousand ghouls…

The Ends

The ends are the hardest to begin
Stuck in a vortex on automatic spin
Awaiting the pain to end
Searching for answers in all
the wrong friends
He’ll lie and beg for amends
You’ll heed the calling
And die from within
He’s poison I’ll say it again
A deal with him is to
dance with sin
The ends are the hardest to bend


© Delia Ross. 2017