1. The Corner That Wasn’t
“though sometimes, that corner only existed in my mind.”
The world doesn’t always shove you into the corner.
Sometimes, survival builds it first—quietly.
A shelter. A separation.
Psychological: Dissociation is a defense, not a defect.
Emotional: Safety often comes in stillness that nobody sees.
Relational: You were there—but also, gone.
Spiritual: A sacred fracture forms the first refuge.
Rhythm: Soft. Dim-lit. A vanishing act done in silence.
2. The Gift and the Curse of Empathy
“I saw past the surface… I wanted to help.”
Empathy is not just feeling—it’s absorption.
And when offered without a container,
it becomes a slow drowning.
Psychological: To feel deeply without boundaries is dangerous.
Emotional: Compassion, unchecked, becomes self-erasure.
Relational: You became the sink where others poured their pain.
Spiritual: The healer must not bleed for every wound.
Rhythm: Warm. Overextended. A flood wrapped in kindness.
3. The Emptying
“the world will drink you dry.”
The ache of others doesn’t disappear when you carry it.
It multiplies.
And one day, there’s nothing left of you.
Psychological: Emotional labor without replenishment breaks identity.
Emotional: Your softness became a sponge for everything not yours.
Relational: Some people mistake love for sacrifice.
Spiritual: Being a vessel doesn’t mean becoming a void.
Rhythm: Pulled. Thin. A slow unraveling.
4. The Mirror Trick
“he didn’t see me. Only his own reflection.”
When people confuse you for their mirror,
they don’t love you—
they use you to fight themselves.
Psychological: Projection is not connection.
Emotional: His war was never about you—but you took the shrapnel.
Relational: You were the stand-in for a pain he refused to own.
Spiritual: Your identity is not his battleground.
Rhythm: Distorted. Angled. A reflection that fractures.
5. The Boundary Collapse
“We all have a fence.”
There’s a point where restraint gives way.
Where pain becomes weapon.
Where love turns to casualty.
Psychological: Unprocessed pain finds new targets.
Emotional: The one closest always takes the hit.
Relational: You bore the weight of his ungoverned storm.
Spiritual: Chaos without conscience corrupts intimacy.
Rhythm: Shattered rhythm. A breakbeat of bruises.
6. The Split Self
“I created two versions of me…”
One to endure.
One to pretend.
Neither whole.
Both necessary.
Psychological: Adaptation sometimes means disintegration.
Emotional: Survival demanded a shape that wasn’t yours.
Relational: You twisted yourself to shield him from consequence.
Spiritual: Fragmentation often mimics strength.
Rhythm: Dissonant. Splintered. A ballet on broken glass.
7. The Rescuers at the Gate
“Others did. They tried to save me.”
Sometimes love arrives while you’re still making excuses.
Still kneeling at someone else’s altar.
Psychological: Rationalization keeps you longer than fear.
Emotional: The need to be needed is a powerful captor.
Relational: You defended the one who was destroying you.
Spiritual: Grace knocks even when the door won’t open.
Rhythm: Gentle tension. A plea beneath denial.
8. The Breakaway
“not of defeat, but of freedom.”
There’s a moment you step out.
Not because you stopped loving—
but because you started remembering yourself.
Psychological: Liberation doesn’t require clarity—just courage.
Emotional: Leaving is its own form of mourning.
Relational: You chose survival over illusion.
Spiritual: The exodus is holy.
Rhythm: First steady. Then rising. The pulse of self-return.
9. The Sacred Witness
“She did her job. And now, I carry her memory with gratitude.”
The version of you that endured
deserves honor—
not erasure.
Psychological: Inner protectors must be released, not resented.
Emotional: Gratitude makes space for growth.
Relational: You don’t discard the past—you integrate her.
Spiritual: She is your altar. Your evidence. Your echo.
Rhythm: Reverent. Grounded. A farewell laced with love.
10. The Border of Compassion
“You can be loving and still walk away.”
True compassion has boundaries.
True healing has requirements.
And yours matters too.
Psychological: Empathy must be mutual to be safe.
Emotional: Kindness is not currency for staying.
Relational: Walking away doesn’t mean giving up. It means waking up.
Spiritual: Love isn’t meant to hollow you.
Rhythm: Full. Sovereign. A strong return to center.
Final Image
This poem is not a lament.
It’s a remembering.
A reclamation of the self behind the survival.
The whisper that says:
“I can carry light—
but I will not go dark
to keep someone else from breaking.”
J.N. Rose 