If You’ve Been Gaslighted, You Know How This Feels

I think I love you, I say,
and he turns on the gaslight.
He makes me think of it all differently.
The Polaroid of my naked body was a bookmark
and he just used me to find his place.
Our slow dancing in the kitchen was because of the music,
not because he wanted to keep me close.
I see it clearly now.
I look at the ceiling,
the light above the stove
and wonder if it feels burnt out too.

About the author

Brooklyn-based poet, writer, avid coffee drinker, and music lover.

Follow Kelly on Instagram or read more articles from Kelly on Thought Catalog. Learn more about Thought Catalog and our writers on our about page.