Thoughts the Days After - A poem
“Thoughts the Days After” is a deeply personal piece about the aftermath of being stalked and attacked by someone I once considered a close friend. It explores the slow, painful unraveling of trust—the moment when you realize someone who claimed to care for you feels entitled to your body, your attention, your life. This person became violent after I refused to be with them romantically. Despite ending the friendship and making my boundaries clear, they continued to harass and stalk me until things escalated to physical violence.
The poem moves through the emotional whiplash of that time: fear, disbelief, anger, sadness, self-blame, and a complicated grief over losing someone you cared for—not to death, but to obsession and destruction. I wrote it to give shape to what often feels unspeakable.
What followed were years of court battles—both criminal and civil—that left me with no real sense of justice, only exhaustion. Writing became a way to process what the justice system couldn’t resolve. I didn’t approach this poem with a formal structure or traditional rhythm; I let it take shape in the way the memories came to me—jagged, vivid, and unfiltered.
My work often centers on survival, emotional truth, and the aftermath of violence. I want readers to sit with the discomfort, to feel the tension between care and harm, between love and danger. In this piece specifically I wanted to illustrate how difficult it is to walk away, even when you know you could be in danger, and to stand behind that decision. Most importantly, I want other survivors to feel seen.
Thoughts the Days After
Each time I take a breath it is harder than the last.
I try to focus on what you did without thinking of the past.
You once were there every day.
I never had to fear what I could say.
I trusted your intentions
until I began to feel the rising tensions.
You defended me.
You cared for me.
But I soon found out it wasn’t for free.
You said you were my best friend,
but that was only your means to a twisted end.
The delusion you created,
that you and I were fated,
telling everyone you were in love—
and then push came to shove.
Cursing my name and going insane,
you began inflicting pain.
When I didn’t want to have sex,
you tried to fight my ex.
The night you tried to replace me with another girl,
you made yourself so sick you had to hurl.
I watched you destroy the bathroom with your fists.
It wasn’t about me you tried to insist.
“Nothing is going to happen between us.”
You began to shout and cuss.
The shattered mirror and the broken you,
and everything we went through...
It led to this disaster,
and to cope you had to get plastered.
That night you popped a few pills,
and turned to the thrills.
Lines of cocaine,
and smoking Mary Jane,
downing vodka like water,
your temper only growing hotter.
The injuries you self-inflicted,
because to me, you were addicted.
You forgot about the cuts on your hands.
You chose to ignore my demands.
“Get out of my room!”
I felt the impending sense of doom,
as someone I once loved stripped me of my safety.
I tried to fight you back bravely,
But your strength was overpowering.
Over me you were towering.
I tried to resist, but you had to persist.
My body against the wall shaking it entirely—
I had to escape vitally.
You chased me through my home.
You took away from me my phone.
“Help me I’m in danger!”
My last cry for help to convey your anger.
My escape was swift and sudden,
but behind me I could hear you coming.
Dodging left and right,
the objects you threw at me that night.
Finally I was hidden.
Of you I had finally ridden.
The following night I laid in bed,
with all of these thoughts racing through my head.
As you laid in jail,
Awaiting to hear bail,
I wondered if you had regrets,
Or were thinking of more threats.
Every day my fight grows stronger,
and the lack of sleep makes each night longer.
Still I wish for you the best,
and I have a deep ache in my chest.
For to care for someone who hurts you,
but have charges to pursue—
It will break your heart.
It almost tore me apart.
