In me

Dear such and such.

So and so

The man or woman that I do not know

The one I’m scared of

The one that’s hurt me

I still have the scars from when you said I wasn’t good enough

I penned it on my arm with a razor blade

And repeated it aloud day after day

I learned my lesson or at least the one you were teaching that day

Would you be proud of me?

To the first girl that ever called me ugly

I see ugly in the mirror now too

My eyes don’t meet my reflection

They look for a pimple, a blemish, hair and skin

To cut and scratch and pop and soak in bleach and gin

Now I’m like you. Whatever beauty once lay within

Is now soaked in loathsome sin

I learned my lesson and feel ugly within.

To the teachers, family, and friends

Who always have a comment to add, to say

A cutting remark, a chopping at the ankles

So they can stand on my feet

And I can reside on my knees

They told me it was to remind me to pray

That I’m gruesome, a sinner, a blasphemer

And hell knocked at my doorstep

Like a homeless man escaping the wind and rain

So my prepubescent soul learned to hate itself

To not trust itself

And to look to the sky for answers that never appear

They would say he’s not speaking, you can’t hear him, he’s not working

Because you aren’t listening, living in sin, praying hard enough

Whipping and beating your flesh to become an angel

They told me to stop cutting myself

They told me to stop using drugs

To stop drowning myself in a bottle

Yet they hand me a bowl of angel dust

Soaked in blood and razor blades

And tell me to drink and bathe

And I’m still left wondering where the love is

4 thoughts on “In me

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s