BROKEN

AFTERMATH OF NARCISSISTIC ABUSE

De: Ghenrietta Von BLOOME

Narrado por: Virtual Voice

I believe some people have no soul—just shades of shadow lurking behind empty eyes. It's the laugh that echoes too loudly, the smile that glimmers like broken glass, sharp and deceitful. They weave nightmares, these narcissists, cloaked in charm, grinning as they draw you in with promises of love, only to leave you gasping for air in a sea of your own despair. Love..? No, it’s control they crave, and pity, a twisted kind of satisfaction, as they carve their venom into your heart. I recall him—the way he twisted affection into a noose, suffocating yet intoxicating. Every compliment dripped with poison disguised as praise, each demand buried beneath layers of concern, heavy enough to crush bones, to smother dreams. It suffocated and yet, I couldn’t escape—how could I? The darkness was familiar, my own unhealed shadow I knew all too well.
They thrive on misery, the monsters in disguise—feeding off shattered hopes and whispered fears, smirking from their thrones of manipulation.
And I..? I was a marionette in his play, strings pulled tight, dancing to the haunting melody of my own despair. I grasp at the threads, yearning for liberation yet entranced by the dance, enviously watching the sunlight tremble around others, their joy untainted. Yet I can’t break free; the nightmare is home. Clinging to the shards of what once was, I wonder: have I, too, become a shadow? Am I now one of them..?

Aftermath of Narcissistic Abuse.