Women’s skin under your fingernails

You are a part of me that I have to deal with, a part

That cannot be exorcised from my body.

You never did the work. You just let it all go.

With your endless screaming until your throat was dry and dull.

Your heart shattered in a thousand pieces, streaming into your

Frustrated blood. Your shivering violent hands, the sweat on my face.


I still don’t know you at all. If you really never knew how to love.

Whether you have always been this crude and depreciative.

I have seen the ugliest of your faces and your magnificent masks.

I’d study your eyes when you held my cheeks, when you put the stench

Of your cigarette-infested fingers on me, and had I not wanted to live

And survive you, you’d have torn me to pieces.


You sent me into the world empty-handed, you have always been a thief.

You gave nothing, taught me nothing, yet demanded and took everything.

I could never understand how I could ever fall asleep under the same roof as you.

I’d gotten so used to your terrors, they became normal, another day, I did not die.

Under your insane regime, your verbal abuse, your body of outbursts and

Bullying gaze.


You want my mercy and absolution, an unconditional love

That I have never experienced from you. You forgot me on sidewalks.

I have wasted hours of my life waiting for you, dependent on you,

And you just never cared, everything revolved around you.


You never comprehended the damage you did.

How abusive you were.

How disgusting your behaviour was towards women,

How lecherous and insincere.

How you made me feel like a piece of shit every single day.

To make yourself feel better.

You always built your life on the demise of others.

And you’d walk around with your halo,

Your penis tormenting one woman after the other, the spotlights on you.

The applause always yours, spreading your lies like a madman in disguise.


And you’d eat them alive, calling them whores and cheap sluts,

And instead of giving me love, holding me without shame and abhorrence,

You looked at my adolescent body, lost and endlessly sad and needy, famished for

Affection and attention, and called me a whore too.


You destroyed the image I had of men. You told me all they could ever want was sex.

Nothing more, teaching me that I had nothing else to offer then.

You didn’t think about the words you chose, their disastrous impact.


I thought I needed to hide and protect myself, be strong all the fucking


You fucked yourself silly left and right, cheated and cheated, you disgusting

Hypocrite, and you just looked at my flesh, my hair, my clothes, my make-up

And thought that you had earned the right to insult and judge me.


You know what I see when I look back at myself in retrospect?


A young girl in an abused sexually premature body who did everything to please

And be loved, but traded her self-worth, unknowingly, for a bit of worthless attention.


Because you weren’t there, never ever, and you never touched her, never encouraged

Who she really was, never wanting to hear her voice, look at her face,

Because you never made her feel like you loved her, you didn’t even make an effort

To pretend, but when you got the chance to judge and shame her you were right there,

Front and centre, you and your virtue-signalling. You never held her and she got fucked.

By men that were just like you.

Spare me all of your backwards misogynistic bullshit. Apply it to yourself. The shoe fits.

woman lying on bed
Photo by Christian Muu00f1oz on Pexels.com





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