14. I Am The Abuser
Every story has a villain.
In this one, it's me.
Not with fists, not with knives—
with silence, control, jealousy.
[VERSE 1]
Derek, military — sweet like breath before the scream,
language degree, motorcycle lean, red rose in his teeth like a dream.
But we aren't love — we're locked and loaded, fuse on the floor,
two trauma bombs with the pins pulled, safety codes no more.
I move in fast, no pause, no grace, no patience to wait,
just trauma in a duffel bag, new man wearing my weight.
He's careful, gentle, with those quiet hands like prayer,
I'm rage in ripped jeans, wild stare, daring him not to care.
I yell when he doesn't flinch, flinch when he holds his ground,
swing sharp at his arm like it's play, but I love the sound.
I know the rules, still play blame, burn bridges and grin,
make losing look like winning if it means I pin him in.
His priest dad pulls him aside, whisper's cutting me through:
"That girl is abusing you." And it's truer than I want to view.
But I tuck it, choke it, bury it, swallow that bruise,
'cause if I spit it in the open then I gotta face the truth.
[PRE-CHORUS]
I tell myself he's hiding things, proof I invent,
I twist his silence till it bends to my intent.
Soft turns to suspect, kind feels like con,
so I tear at his peace just to keep the fight on.
Every look's a betrayal, every pause is a trap,
I drag him through my history till the present overlaps.
[CHORUS]
I am the abuser— I'm jealous of ghosts.
I am the abuser— My love is a pinch.
I am the abuser— I rename his pain.
I am the abuser— I rewrite his mind.
I am the abuser— I weaponize rage.
I am the abuser— I feed him my fear.
[VERSE 2]
I flip it to me, scream, "You don't want my skin?"
Like his "no" is rejection, like he's doing me in.
But he's lying there silent, teeth locked like a brace,
and I'm too busy with my ego to see his face.
I catch him watch women and my stomach just twists,
"Yeah, he's checking her ass, bet he's making a list."
But he's staring 'cause he wants to be her, wear her skin,
and I miss it completely, just drag him again.
He buys me a dress, stitches love into thread,
I spit back suspicion, kill the gift till it's dead.
He pays for my breasts, but the cruelest reveal,
he wanted his own, a truth I'd never hear.
I throw out accusations, stack them mile-high,
lust, lies, betrayal—every label's a lie.
He doesn't want to be a man—I don't see it back then,
and I choke out the chance to ever love her as her.
[BRIDGE]
I twist every kindness, make devotion a sin,
he stays locked in silence, I cage her within.
I rattle his quiet, pry deep into skin—
but really, I'm the blade the whole thing is in.
[CHORUS]
I am the abuser— I'm jealous of ghosts.
I am the abuser— My love is a pinch.
I am the abuser— I rename his pain.
I am the abuser— I rewrite his mind.
I am the abuser— I weaponize rage.
I am the abuser— I feed him my fear.
[OUTRO]
I am the abuser— I'm the hook in the vow, the hand in his choices, the choke in the "how."
I am the abuser— I weaponize calm, flip mercy to muzzle, hold power as psalm.
I am the abuser— the bond and the bind, I spit it in blood so it dies now.
