You were once a shiny new penny. You were precious. You were valued. You were loved, and cherished and you were the dearest thing, ever.
You used to value yourself. And now, you go by what others think of you. Specially, what this one man thinks of you. How is he even a man? Putting a price on your head as you go into exile with him? How is he even worthy of your love? You’ve asked yourself this one question, over and over and over again, and you still go back to loving him.
Him, in different avatars. In different meat suits. Sometimes black, sometimes white, sometimes Hispanic. Maybe the next time, he’ll show up in a yellow meat suit. Or brown. No wait, he’s shown up in brown already.
What are you doing to yourself?
Jumping in and out of relationships like you were playing in puddles. Splish, splash, you’re in. You’ve got your feet dirty. Time to go home, clean up, go out the next time, play in those puddles again. Splash, clean, repeat. Doing nothing but living that vicious cycle.
Take a dip in vinegar, little tarnished coin. Come out looking like the shiny new penny you used to be. You don’t need to be manhandled anymore.
This is a piece of random fiction I wrote looking at all those women that go through abusive relationships, and still go back to their men. Or move on to find another abusive man.