What They Don’t Tell You (About Narcs and What They Leave Behind)
The day I remember when I was finally free—
A new home, a new start… but no longer me.
Where had she gone, the fun-loving chick?
The feisty smart cookie, with life at her feet.
Walking the fields with my dog by my side,
I knew I would always have something to hide.
As morning was dawning in those golden hours,
My soul in this shell fearfully cowered.
Maybe he’ll find me—he still wants me dead,
Still trying so hard to think good thoughts instead.
My mind runs in circles on history’s stage,
Incessant, cruel voices loud on the rampage.
The memories intrude—I can’t make them stop,
Twisting my stomach into one tangled knot.
The night’s terrors are dark; they won’t let me sleep,
My world feels unsafe, full of monsters and creeps.
My worthlessness screams for all to see—
Everyone thinking there’s something wrong with me.
My neighbours are plotting behind my back…
I can’t trust anyone.
I flinch at a whisper, jump at a knock,
Hide in the silence, frozen in shock.
Each day is survival, not some fresh new start—
Just stitching the pieces of my shattered heart.
They said I was lucky, said I got away—
But the bruises inside still bloom every day.
I smile when required, I nod when they speak,
But inside I’m hollow, ashamed to seem weak.
I miss who I was, the fire and the flame,
But she’s not just lost—she was stolen by shame.
And yet through the static, I still hear her call,
Faint, but defiant, not gone after all.
So I walk with my dog through the fields once more,
Let the wind speak truths I cannot ignore.
Though the fear still lingers like mist on the land,
I’m learning to steady, to breathe, to stand.
One step at a time, one breath, one beat,
One glimpse of the sun through trauma’s deceit.
What they don’t tell you is healing is slow—
But seeds still take root where the wild winds blow.
I’m broken, but living. I’m frightened, but free.
And somewhere inside… she’s still part of me.
Living on the Edge 