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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 Ceaselessly she taunts me to analyze every emotion. Only to label me as weak. Why is she protecting me? She wont let me speak. |