Not all monsters roar! (poem)

“Not All Monsters Roar”
by MissT

Sometimes, when I read other people’s stories — about broken walls, violent outbursts, the kind of cruelty that screams in your face — I almost feel lucky. I tell myself mine wasn’t that bad. He didn’t call me names. He didn’t punch walls or threaten to leave. He wasn’t vicious.

He was just… smothering.

He needed me to fix him. Every time. Every single time he spiraled or panicked or crumbled, I was the one expected to pull him back. To soothe, to hold, to carry. I was the emotional life raft in a storm that never ended. And when I couldn’t fix it — when I was too tired, too broken, too human — the guilt set in. His disappointment. His silence. His sadness. And somehow, I always ended up apologising for not being enough.

That’s the thing people don’t talk about: not all abuse is loud. Some of it is soft. Subtle. Wrapped in “I need you” and “you’re the only one who understands me.” Some of it looks like love until it starts to choke you.

So no, he didn’t scream at me. He just slowly erased me, expecting me to be everything for him — while he was nothing for me.

And now I sit with this weird mixture of guilt and gratitude. Grateful that I wasn’t torn down like some others have been… but guilty that it still hurt this much.

Let me say this, in case someone else needs to hear it:

You don’t need bruises to feel broken.
You don’t need shouting to feel scared.
You don’t need to be hated to feel erased.

Sometimes, “not that bad” is bad enough.

And you’re allowed to leave anyway.

—MissT