The Truth

Jonathan Valania

I thought you’d leave me

shattered—

pieces on the floor,

too jagged to hold,

too broken to sweep.


Like the vase

my childhood friends destroyed,

laughing—

wanting joy

without the cost.


But consequence is cruel.

It waits.

It doesn’t land

until everything is silent.


I could scream

until my throat gave out,

and you’d still only hear

the volume—

never the wound,

never the grief,

never the demons

you summoned in me.


You told me,

"Stop yelling."

But you never heard

the silence beneath it.


I was never loud—

just unheard.

Always second.

To him.


And when I told you that hurt,

you said—


"I'm just being honest."

"I don’t know what you expected."

"Can you blame me?"


Each excuse

measured like venom,

twisting the blade deeper.


A reaper

with a hollow heart,

harvesting mine

from the start.


Read the Next Poem

Wretched

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Letters I'll Never Send

It started with evidence—court documents, voicemails, and text messages meant to prove what was done behind closed doors. But somewhere in the quiet aftermath, it became something else. A record. A release. A slow, sacred beginning.

Letters I’ll Never Send is a poetry and prose collection drawn from the wreckage of an abusive relationship. These pages hold what was never safe to say out loud—fury, sorrow, confusion, love twisted by fear. It’s not a story wrapped in resolution. It’s what healing sounds like when you’re still in the middle.

The print edition includes exclusive poems and reflections not found online. A portion of proceeds goes toward supporting survivors of domestic abuse.

This book isn’t just for the ones who escaped.

It’s for anyone learning how to live after.