Some women throw up. Some feel like their skin is crawling. Some fight back, forced into a role they never saw coming.
Some women swallow every word, take every hit like they were made of Kevlar or chainmetal, a fortified nuclear test zone as their emotional anatomy.
And no one finds out until she’s dead, or he is.
Some women have insomnia or develop auto immune disorders. Their body exhausted from playing his waiting game. Some women never end up with these men at all.
I was lucky to have sleep paralysis. I was manifesting with a demon. But the demon didn’t want me, it wanted out of him. I freed the demon first because I had to.
It took less time to convince the demon to move on from me than it did to free myself from him.









