Not my secret anymore

This is something I wrote a while ago. Have been told by friends that my writing and poetry tend to be very negative, but that's my way of getting my angry and hurt feelings out. I don't need or feel like writing about butterfly and rainbows. I write about my emotions and things I feel.

He told me not to tell. He had called me a baby. Said he wanted to kill me. So why would I not listen? But holding it inside was a weight I couldn't carry.It kept falling on me, crushing me, hurting me, weighing me down. Walking through those big brown doors everyday felt like a sheep walking into a slaughter house. It was our secret for so long. But I don't need to share something with him. It doesn't have to be our secret. I can unlock the safe I built around the emotions I've felt. I don't have to feel hurt anymore. He doesn't deserve to have power over me, to still have a grasp over me, to still control my emotions, to make me sad and scared and cry at night. To ruin what sex and touch can mean to me. To be in my mind when someone else is making love to me and all I see is him. Hes nothing to me. Enough damage was done. No more. These scars  on my body remind me of the pain I've been through. I can break past it all.