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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Emotional · #2017244
The weight of my tears piled up over all my years is like an anchor...
The weight of my tears
piled up over all my years
is like an anchor... weighing down my soul.

Oh... I'm done with all the crying...

All the extra trying... to get true
compassion and understanding....

Has exacted a sacrificial toll.

Days and nights... gone...
seemingly futile efforts wasted...

Joys... oft untasted...

For the ogre kept breathing
his contempt and dissatisfaction...
that could always flay me whole.

At first... so stunned was I
that to even answer or deny
seemed hopeless...

I quickly learned... not
to even try.

Any words I chose to defend
or to answer the increasingly...
bizarre demands...

Only seemed to serve as more fuel...
to be heaped upon the mountains of my failings...

As only he could behold.

All I said or did was just
another mortal blow.

My self-esteem withered..
to become less than none...

And all the while I kept wondering...
exactly what careless and horrifically
selfish thing have I done?

Was there ever possibly anything
I did right?

So... other than speak...
I'd just retire...
I'd try to fade away...

Anywhere I could hide
from his ire.

To not be seen or heard.

To not do anything to earn
more blows.

Whether to my face or my body
or to my heart and my soul.

The hot pain of destruction
left searing memories... that
displaced my warm heart and left it...

To become frozen... solid and cold.

Even now... many years after these facts...
I find it hard to be merry...

To feel joy and to easily laugh.

For in an instant... unbeckoned...
things can change so fast.

An inquiry can become frightening...
like interrogation....

Sneers... striking fear in my heart and
meant to bring anguishing tears.

Words said with contemptuous censure...

My breath catches short and
my heart starts to pound...

I wonder despairingly...
what damning evidence has been found?

Even though in my mind
I have done nothing wrong...

I know I will hear terrible...
accusations... flung strong.

The tone of voice... the piercing stare...
the firmly pressed lips... the distrusting air...

The malice and scoffing thrown at me
like a stifling blanket to be worn...

To cover my shamefully errant...
and disgusting self...

That obviously should never
have been born.

A more worthless and useless piece of filth...
could never be found...

Not when I am taking up space
on his ground!

---- ---- ----

Inside I revolt and clamor to be heard!

I want to shout and hurl
loud... angry words!

I know I am NOT worthless!
Not in any shape or form!

I am loving and kind and
my tenderness is warm!

I am comforting... helpful... and
quick to hug! I am NOT lazy...
a useless slug!

I can do just about anything
I ever try and I excel in many!

I want to laugh and jump for joy!

I need to be appreciated...
not as a slave or a toy...

But as a person.

I need Love and approval
each and every day...

And to be given consideration
in every small way.
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