“Gaslit”
Taking it’s name from the 1944 film, “The Gaslight”,
Gaslighting is a form of mental abuse, in which false information is continuously presented  to a survivor,

In order to make them doubt their memory,
perception,
and sanity

and you know it’s bad
When decades later,
Shadows in your apartment flicker after the sky is baptized in lighting.

And you hear his voice instead of thunder telling you:

“There is no storm.”

“You don’t need to close the windows. That is not water in sheets upon the rooftop,
flooding your room until the mattress weeps under your weight.
It’s probably just an accident

You probably did it.
Little girl, why are you making such a scene?

It is a quiet night, a leaky bathtub upstairs

There is nothing to protect yourself or anyone else from, darling.

Everyone is happy.
Maybe you should try it.

I mean are you trying hard enough to have some better, more attractive feelings?

Show me your winner’s smile-

No, not like that, all bare teeth

Close your mouth and pull until it stings.

Who’s gonna love that gap, yeah?

Who do you think you’re fooling with all this sky is falling bullshit?

Nobody cares.

It’s a party, and the sad girl in the darkened room stays sad her whole life

Her bottomless sorrows transforms all the beautiful people into monsters
Or else just makes them leave.

She only has her self to blame.”


It was on like this for hours,
Even though, you know it’s raining.

It’s a hurricane

The walls, are peeling from their studs.

The floor is floating in the flood

You live on a raft now

Tearing itself apart as it is being sucked out to sea.

You find yourself apologizing to a voice no one else can hear

I’m sorry for this act of God we’re through
I’m sorry about this flesh wound

I keep walking around with staining all your furniture

I’m sorry I can’t seem to stop crying
You know, i guess somebody died and it’s stupid I realize that
But I’m not over it

I guess maybe something happened that gutted me like a carp
You hack apart to catch worthier fish

I guess i haven’t slept in months because silly me, the roof tore off
And i have swallowed so much rain
Lying on my back it
I’m sorry

You probably don’t mean to hear this messy grief girl who can’t seem to keep her mouth shut
It’s just the way it always is

My fault

You know it’s bad
When you can’t actually remember what he sounds like
Like the only version of his voice is rooms away

Roaring between the bookshelves
As he pulls them crashing to the floor

And you wonder
How is it that he still lives here?

How is it that every single creak and rumble in your new apartment
Belong to him somehow?

How is it that you keep waking up and feeling guilty for being lazy and such a mess,
Even at 7 am

Your books still in your boxes
You realize
It isn’t him you’re hearing

But the muscle memory of what he made you feel

It’s not so bad
It’s not so bad

You have to get up and get over it
Are you sure you’re even remembering it right?


It is your hand on the light switch now
Flickering
And cursing your eyes
For their perfect sight