Gaslit By Tatiana Brown Poem by Scott Sims

Gaslit By Tatiana Brown



Taking its name from the 1944 film The Gaslight,

gas-lighting is a form of mental abuse in which false

Information is continuously presented to a survivor in order to

make them doubt their memory, perception,

and sanity.

You know you've been gas lit, when decades later,

shadows in your apartment flicker after the sky is baptized in
lightning, and you hear his voice instead of thunder telling you,
"There is no storm."
"Now honey, You don't need to close the windows

That is not water pouring in sheets onto the rooftops,

flooding your bedroom until the mattress weeps under your
weight- It's just an accident!

You probably did it, little girl.

Why are you making such a scene?

It's a quiet night, a leaky bathtub upstairs,

there is nothing to protect yourself or anyone else from, darling

Everyone is happy

Maybe you should try it."
Are you trying hard enough to have some better, more
attractive feelings?

Show me your winner's smile

No, not like that, all bare teeth-

Close your mouth, and pull until it stings.

Who's going to love that gap, yeah?

Who do you think you're fooling with all this sky is falling
bullshit?

Nobody cares!

It's a party, and the sad girl in the darkened room stays sad
her whole life=

Her bottomless sorrow transforms all of the beautiful people
into monsters,

or else just makes them leave-

She only has herself to blame!
You know it's bad when you can't actually remember what he

sounds like the only version of his voice is rooms away,

roaring between the book shelves as he pulls them crashing to

the floor,

and you wonder how it is that he still lives here?

How every creak and rumble in your new apartment belongs to

him somehow?

How you keep waking up feeling guilty for being lazy and such

a mess, even at 7 AM,

Your books still in their boxes, you realize, it isn't him you're

hearing,

but the muscle memory of what he made you feel-

It's not so bad. It's not so bad.

You've got to get up, and get over it

Are you sure you even remember it right?

Friday, November 1, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: abuse
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