Talking to myself

Thu, 01/18/2018 - 19:38 -- cabjork

You with that smile plastered on your face. You are so broken and so out of place. You hear those girls, whispering your name. If only they knew, knew your pain. 

Would they still talk behind your back if they knew all the things that you had lacked? Like a mother who cares and does your hair or a father who is home and not caught unaware of the pain that you hide so deeply inside... do you think that they would start to be kind?

You walk away. Away from the lies. Why does it matter? You can't change their minds. They only see what they want to believe and put you down to where they want you to be. Broken and shamed, only one to blame. Feed you those lies until you believe the same...

Would they still talk behind your back if they knew all the things that your life had lacked? Like a family not broken by deceit and by lies or a night not filled with all of your cries of the pain that you feel everyday of your life. Would it even matter? Would they start to be kind?

Would they listen to you? Would they see what they've done? How their words have scarred and torn at your heart? Would they reflect on themselves on how they might act and remember all the things that your life had lacked?

Would they tell you that you don't have to fake that smile? That you may be broken, but you don't have to go the extra mile to prove your worth and step up to the plate. You may not feel like you belong here, but you belong just the same. Would you finally start to believe that you aren't the one to blame?

That you are so loved there is no need to be ashamed, you don't see the difference you make because you can't get past your pain. You continue to expose yourself and hide in the shame.. How blind they have been to your strength, you've fought the good fight so maybe... just maybe they would be kind. 

This poem is about: 
My family


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