The Ones who Stay Away

Here's a poem capturing the struggles of those with deep fears of abandonment, trust issues, and attachment to harmful relationships, along with paths to healing.

The Ones Who Stay Away

They learned too young that love departs,

that arms once warm can turn to stone.

Now every touch is laced with doubt,

and every voice can chill the bone.

They scan for signs of leaving feet,

for hands that falter, eyes that roam.

A whispered word, a shift in tone—

it all confirms: You’ll be alone.

They test, they push, they twist the words

to prove their fears were right all along.

Yet when a heart stands firm, unshaken,

it somehow feels too safe, too wrong.

Instead, they chase the fleeting storm,

the love that wounds, the cold embrace.

For pain is known, familiar ground,

but kindness feels so out of place.

And so they dance in aching cycles,

aching to be held, yet pulling away.

Desiring warmth, but fearing fire,

trapped in longing, night and day.

But healing calls, in whispered tones—

a path not sharp, nor paved in stone.

With therapy, they find the name

for wounds they thought were theirs alone.

With steady care, they start to see

that trust can grow like fragile vines.

That safety isn't dull or false,

but built with love and patient time.

With EMDR, the past unchains,

with IFS, they meet the child

who learned to flinch and run from love—

they soothe her pain, so raw, so wild.

They learn to sit in love that lingers,

in hands that hold without demand.

To stop mistaking peace for boredom,

to stop mistaking hurt for grand.

And though the past still hums its chorus,

its grip grows weak, its voice less strong.

For love was never meant to wound—

but hold you safe, and keep you long.

This poem intertwines the emotional experience of those struggling with abandonment wounds and maladaptive attachment patterns with possible treatment options such as therapy, EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing), and IFS (Internal Family Systems).