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elizabeth-waxmanPoems
How many more tears can I handle? How many more weekends? Being insulted every time I interact. Being told to shut up every time my mouth opens. Being yelled at to the point I cant do anything. Being shamed to the point I look in the mirror and hate myself. Till I hate the way I act The way I dress The way I look The way I LIVE! The tears steaming down my cheeks begging the pain in my gut to leave and the weight on my chest to be lifted if only for a moment. The idea of a nice quiet weekend goes away the minute they awake. My temporary smile wiped away. Replaced with the all more familiar Fear Sadness Anxiety. I push them down and try to behave. I hope they vanish but I know they come out. They wouldn't see though. They're too busy causing these tears now dried on my face.
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Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 3:06 PM UTC
Crying
How many more tears can I handle? How many more weekends? Being insulted every time I interact. Being told to shut up every time my mouth opens. Being yelled at to the point I cant do anything. Being shamed to the point I look in the mirror and hate myself. Till I hate the way I act The way I dress The way I look The way I LIVE! The tears steaming down my cheeks begging the pain in my gut to leave and the weight on my chest to be lifted if only for a moment. The idea of a nice quiet weekend goes away the minute they awake. My temporary smile wiped away. Replaced with the all more familiar Fear Sadness Anxiety. I push them down and try to behave. I hope they vanish but I know they come out. They wouldn't see though. They're too busy causing these tears now dried on my face.
Written by
elizabeth-waxman
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 3:06 PM UTC
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