Alexandra

Fri, 10/24/2014 - 20:41 -- muniek1

To you she won’t exist. Nor will her vacant stare.

She’s bleeding with the wall, you couldn’t even care

Had you chosen to try. You ask her “How are you?”

She looks back terrified. Politeness is a fluke,

She wasn’t counting on. It’s her fault you draw back,

Her fault she’s all alone, her fault her head will crack,

Just like a porcelain doll’s. To you she won’t exist

Often, nor even to herself. Till I resist.

Fight back my doll default. My fear of showing Me.

What’s the point in living,suffering my own decree.

Though isolation is such an instant comfort,

It will erode my soul. I CAN escape that tort.

Not let myself become a fragile empty shell.

I’ll show you who I am, (so they can also tell)

That I am a woman that should be respected.

I am a person that has her own perspective.

I am a caring friend, a loving daughter too.

And I have never put myself ahead of you.

I’ve let you have the best. I’m kind, even to much.

Because I care for people, it’s become a crutch.

I’m afraid of wronging others and then myself,

So I’m not assertive, instead suffering in stealth.

I have to show you now, I’m not invisible.

I’m not some nameless doll. My mind is critical,

My eyes are keen and bright. Now I know my own worth,

And now we can be friends, and I’ll express my mirth.

After having shut out the world for so long.

I’m worried that by now though, you are far and gone.

 

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