Even in the darkness
I can feel those eyes upon me.
I can close my eyes tight
and cover my ears,
but I can still picture their menacing glare,
and I can still hear those words
loud
and clear.
Don't shout your compliments
and jam them down my throat
because without my own consent
they mean nothing.
They tell me to learn
to take a nice gesture
but the truth is
it's the compliments that hurt the most.
When I close my eyes,
I can still see your mouths moving,
and I feel your words
rocking my world,
slowly sinking my ship.
I've tried to keep my sea legs
steady
for so long now,
but I can feel the uneasy,
sick,
queasy feelings
rolling back into my brain,
and I have to fight hard to stay on my feet.
You shout your words
like I should be thankful
to hear them.
The words only bring fear
that this perfection you see
could slip away,
and then I would be left
with the memory
of who I used to be.
The saddest thing is,
when I close my eyes,
I can't stop hearing their words,
and I can't stop feeling
like I should be ashamed
of what I've let myself become.
But the eyes,
the ones I see
even when I close my own,
are just that;
The eyes that peer down
upon me,
evilly glaring,
constantly staring,
picking me apart,
are those that rest
just above my own nose.

They tell her she is talented
with special skills to spare
they say she’s got a winning smile
and sunbeams in her hair

She would end her skill today
and suffer every defeat
she would cut off all her hair
if she could just be sweet

They tell her that she’s popular
that she could win a crowd
they say she fills the room with cheer
her friends all laugh aloud

She would be shy as a mouse
quiet and discrete
she’d give up all of her fake friends
if she could just be sweet

They say she wears the greatest clothes
she has the greatest style
they say she has a pretty face
the boys would chase for miles

She would empty her whole closet
throw her clothes out in the street
she would wear an ugly mask
if she could just be sweet

They say she dances with such grace
she sings in perfect tune
her elegance is unrivaled
she makes the whole room swoon

She would trip upon herself
and sound like an old goat’s bleat
she would lose her every limb
if she could just be sweet

So many things they call her
talented, beautiful, witty,
if she could not merely be sweet
then what’s the point of pretty?

The compliments she gets
from everyone she meets
all of them are true and nice,
but none of them are “sweet.”

"I planted peaches and apples
but  ate only the seeds...i mean..the poison,
gladly tossing the fruit away"

silently
as in introspection
i look at all the poison growing around me
not far away is my little watering can
the one with which i had happily watered all the poison
and now..and now it is in full bloom

poison was the words that proceeded out of his mouth
every statement a measure of cyanide
calculated cunningly for everyday of my existence
and willingly i drank from my cup

slowly slowly
he rolls his tongue and spews forth the venom,
the venom that would be the end of me
"focus focus" my mind screams
but i can't
i cant hold on to the very dreams that held me together in days bygone

how dare you accuse yourself of such ?
Did you tell him to lace the compliments with arsenic?
questions..questions..questions
but no answers
Im gone