I don't want to write a poem.
I don't want to tell you how I feel
Words rip into my soul
Violently grasping to be let out
Screaming, screeching, scratching
until it is swollen and sore
I hate her
The girl who controls the fog of my memories
She wont let me feel the joy of the swing sets
On the swing sets I used to escape chaos and cruelty
soothing rocking motions
like being in a body of water
she taunts me to analyze every emotion. Only to label me as weak.
Why is she protecting me?
She wont let me speak.