Keeping Secrets and Telling Lies

I am from behind locked doors.

From feelings in notebooks written in permanent pen.

 

I am from the lonely and empty feeling

spilled on all the pages from my heart.

 

I am from the weeping willow tree.

The willow whose leaves are gone like the wind.

I remember the long gone limbs and leaves as if they were pieces of my heart

breaking and crumbling away.

 

I am from a zoo of curiosity and tears.

I am from getting forgotten by my "dad" and then being remembered again.

 

I am from keeping secrets and telling lies to protect myself.

I am from hiding from the truth, because the truth hurts.

 

I am from "Did your Dad forget you yet'? and from 'he will not come see you'

And I am from Colder weather and broken promises.

 

I am from being alone, left to die in sorrow.

From family photos being burned in my heart, and shreds of them in the garbage.

 

 

I AM THE FORGOTTEN ONE!

 

              

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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