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2.9k · Jul 2016
My Family, My Home
Deann Davidson Jul 2016
To me,
Family isn't my parents,
Or anyone else bound by blood.
And home isn't four walls
With Windows and a front door.
No, my family is smaller than that,
And my home is much simpler.
Family are those who love me and are always there.
And home is the safety I feel within their love's embrace.
When I started college, I never expected to find my real family. But that's exactly what I did.
353 · Jul 2016
What You Thought You Knew
Deann Davidson Jul 2016
See that girl, smiling in the sweater over there?
She’s wasting away and to eat she wouldn’t dare.
And that boy wearing the long sleeves?
His scars will show he’s not as happy as everyone believes.
The smiling girl whose boyfriend kissed her cheek?
He slapped her in the same place just last week.
See that boy, grinning across the way?
He wanted to **** himself yesterday.
That girl with the smile plastered on her face?
She just got kicked out of her parents’ place.
See the man with the crooked smirk?
He’s worrying about his family because he’s still out of work.
That girl that’s laughing by the wall?
She’s hiding bruises big and small.
The boy you think has his life all together?
He might not be okay whatsoever.
A fake smile can hide more than you know.
These people don’t reveal things they don’t want to show.
Very few people can see through the masks they wear
To get a glance of the stories hidden there.
Fake smiles hide the stories they won’t share,
Because they believe no one will care.
For some, fake smiles are abundant and real ones are few.
There’s always more to a person that what you thought you knew.
332 · May 2017
Monster Under My Bed
Deann Davidson May 2017
If you asked me what my favorite feature was,
I would have said my eyes.
To be honest, there’s nothing special about them.
They’re hazel, but more green than brown.
Sometimes they turn to a golden brown with flecks of green.
They are only a bright green when I cry,
Which is usually because of something you said.
I really wish you didn’t have so much power over me,
But you know, some wishes just don’t come true.
I learned that when I looked up at the first star every night
And wished that things between us would be different.

When I was a kid, I couldn’t watch The Wizard of Oz.
The Wicked Witch of the West absolutely terrified me.
I didn’t have monsters under my bed.
Instead, a scary green face popped up at the foot of it
And talked to me each and every night.
I never told you about it because I knew every kid was scared of something.
But eventually, rather than Elphaba making conversation,
You became the witch that haunted my nightmares.
Maybe that’s why I still have trouble sleeping,

When I was in the 8th grade, we went on a trip to New York.
We got to see Wicked on Broadway.
To this day, I still love it more than any movie I’ve ever seen
Because it shows that people aren’t as bad as they seem.
Elphaba wasn’t as wicked as she led everyone to believe,
And she was never really going to hurt Dorothy.
She was just using her so that she could follow her heart.
Part of me hoped that the same could be said for you
But I was never Dorothy and you sure as hell aren’t Elphaba.
I’m just the one left hurting while you’re the most wicked of the witches.

You’re the most manipulative person I’ve ever met
And even though I’m well-aware of that fact,
You still have a hold on me.
We are still connected but not by a heartstring.
That would mean love is present and there’s no love between us.
No, this is a connection of power and fear;
Your power over me and my fear of you.
It’s like you have a chain wrapped around my heart
That’s so thick not even Excalibur could cut through it.
Or maybe a better way of putting it is that
You have me attached to you by a leash
And every time I get too far ahead
You yank me back and yell, “Heel!”
You always did love calling me a *****.

Even though I’m 2,000 miles away,
You still haunt me and every move I make.
I share some of your physical features and I hate it.
You always said that my hair was the same color yours used to be,
So I decided to dye it blonde to look less like you.
But you’re probably happy about that because you always thought I was stupid.
Now I fit the stereotype.
Our mouths are shaped the same and I swear,
Part of me wants to get plastic surgery to change them,
But even if I change every physical feature we share,
I’ll still share personality traits with you.
We’re both creative, opinionated and stubborn
And those are only a few of the characteristics we share.
We both tend to speak our minds
And stand up for what we believe in.
I want to be nothing like you,
Yet every time I open my eyes,
I see more of you in me.

Despite my best efforts, I feel myself taking after you.
Those that love me assure me I’m nothing like you
But I still live with that fear weighing on my heart.
It’s so heavy it makes it hard to breathe sometimes
And that’s when an anxiety attack decides to strike,
All because I’m doing my best to not become you.
You’re the monster that was never under my bed.
The only problem is that you don’t look like one
And it’s even hard for me to see it sometimes
Because you have the best **** mask I’ve ever seen.

I used to love my eyes,
But now every time I look in the mirror,
You’re the monster staring back at me.

— The End —