I rehearse my lines like a prayer gone wrong,
DEAR MAN steps I drag along.
Describe the facts, keep feelings thin,
don’t let the past come crashing in.
Express, they say, but I was taught
that feelings cost more than they’re worth.
My mind still echoes with the thought
Stay small, stay safe, don’t rock the earth.
Assert your needs - what a cruel refrain,
like asking fire not to burn.
My “no” still tastes like bloodied pain,
a lesson I was forced to learn.
Reinforce the good, explain the why,
promise outcomes, soften tone,
but every time I try, I lie -
I never meant to stand alone.
Mindful now, I watch myself
fade mid-sentence, disappear.
Appear confident - how on earth?
when fear has lived here year by year.
Negotiate, bend, adjust, concede,
call it compromise, call it grace,
but really it’s the same old need
to keep the peace,
to know my place.
So I give in, again, again,
trade self-respect for borrowed calm,
my boundaries break like paper skin
pressed flat beneath another’s palm.
They say it’s easier with time,
but time just sharpens what I know,
the skill is sound, the steps are fine—
it’s me who never gets to grow.
Hope feels like a language lost,
a word I’m scared to say out loud.
I count the damage, count the cost,
and bow my head instead of proud.
If this is healing, it feels fake,
a script I mouth, a role I play.
I try DEAR MAN; but it all breaks,
and I still choose the quiet way.
Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 8:27 AM UTC
I rehearse my lines like a prayer gone wrong,
DEAR MAN steps I drag along.
Describe the facts, keep feelings thin,
don’t let the past come crashing in.
Express, they say, but I was taught
that feelings cost more than they’re worth.
My mind still echoes with the thought
Stay small, stay safe, don’t rock the earth.
Assert your needs - what a cruel refrain,
like asking fire not to burn.
My “no” still tastes like bloodied pain,
a lesson I was forced to learn.
Reinforce the good, explain the why,
promise outcomes, soften tone,
but every time I try, I lie -
I never meant to stand alone.
Mindful now, I watch myself
fade mid-sentence, disappear.
Appear confident - how on earth?
when fear has lived here year by year.
Negotiate, bend, adjust, concede,
call it compromise, call it grace,
but really it’s the same old need
to keep the peace,
to know my place.
So I give in, again, again,
trade self-respect for borrowed calm,
my boundaries break like paper skin
pressed flat beneath another’s palm.
They say it’s easier with time,
but time just sharpens what I know,
the skill is sound, the steps are fine—
it’s me who never gets to grow.
Hope feels like a language lost,
a word I’m scared to say out loud.
I count the damage, count the cost,
and bow my head instead of proud.
If this is healing, it feels fake,
a script I mouth, a role I play.
I try DEAR MAN; but it all breaks,
and I still choose the quiet way.