i wish i could tell you

everything

the fights
the tearful nights
the pain and the hurt

it's so hard to keep things from you
because your eyes hold concern
and you worry for me
i can see it

but i've been taught,
brainwashed,
trained

and the very thought of those words leaving me
the taste of my confession on my lips
makes my being so very, very afraid

and sweetheart, you're
not in a position
to protect me
but
i still
love you

when i was younger,
afternoons meant screaming matches;
sorry, i mean screaming
lectures, maybe
or sessions
never matches-
we were never allowed to reply
or she'd scream louder and
louder.

i grew up ashamed.
ashamed of my body
ashamed of my personality
ashamed of my quirks and ticks
ashamed of what made me, me
i hated them.
i wanted to strip them away,
peel off my skin,
bleach my face,
burn my hands,
remove anything
that made me her target.
to this day, i still
hold out hope
that i may one day
stop hating myself.

crying was a weakness
unworthy of comfort
i have no memory
of being comforted
or held
just
alone
my pillow and my stuffed animals
for company
oh, how i longed to be held
just once
just for a moment,
someone to hold me up
when i couldn't breathe.

she used to tell us
the reason she screamed so loudly
was because she had tried, in the past
to speak softly.
apparently, we never listened.

i don't remember her
ever speaking evenly
i don't remember a day
without screams
(oh the screams)
filling the house, my mind
and even if she had tried so hard
to be quiet with us, and failed,
aren't mothers supposed to be patient,
even if the children do not listen?

i hated the way she would scream, yes
but more than that i hated
the way she would tower over me
face inches from mine,
eyes alight with what i could only
describe as
pure hatred
the image still haunts me
i'm still scared of her eyes, sometimes.

she gets so mad, sometimes.
i'm convinced she is not aware,
she does not remember
the things she says
when she is taking out her anger
on me.
a blind rage.
isn't that all i am?
an outlet for her anger?
the antagonist to her lead character?
the useless child she has to drive to school
for two more years?
will i ever be anything but
the result of years of anger?
the target of her mockery?
the recipient of her insults?
will i ever be more than
ugly
*****
disgusting
manipulative
evil
fat
stupid
dumb
unca­ring
unloving
ungrateful
a monster
a brat
a demon
a pig
an animal
boring
antisocial
timid
unlikeable
unwanted?

i have only ever known her to be sharp
harsh
disgusted with anything i do
that's why it hurts
when she gives me brief hugs,
smiles,
tells me she only screams
because she loves me
because i know
her intentions are pure
if her actions
are knives slotted between
my ribs.

Polite
Typical
Smiley
Daughter

Pointlessly
Trusting
School
District

Professor
Turns-blind-eye
Struggling
Drastically

Packets
Turn-to
Stacks
Deficient

Panic Attacks
Turn-to
Self
Destruction

Pulling
Teeth
Sick
Design

Plan­­s
To
Stop
Discussing

Peace
To-her
Silence
Disturbs

People
Talked
She
Distracted

Passed
The
Snacks-to
Dinners

Pulled
The
Same
Dimensions

Pre-K
Then
Smaller
Didn't

Pause
Third-Grade
So
Dead

Parents
Though
She
Drowned

Piled
Thoughts
Suffocated-her
Dexterity

Patient
There
Suffering
Depression

Problems
To-many-to
Score
Dispute

Progress
That
Shockingly
Developed

Potentially
Taken-away-the
Suffering
Dramatically

Poor
Tiny
Sweet
Doll

Par­­t
Traumatized
Sleep
Deprived

Phobic
though
Sixth grade
Doesn't

Play
Though
Six-Years-of
Death

Until... The little girl, learned she had,
Post
Traumatic
Stress
Disorder
and, school treating her badly is only one of her three traumatizing events.

What has happened, sweet girl,
How did he rob you of your smile,
You once gleamed with happiness,
But no one has seen it in a while.

Why do you believe these awful things,
That he says to you,
Please tell me why you’re crying,
You must know those things aren’t true.

How many chances does one get,
To change and treat you right,
Love doesn’t hurt like this, sweet girl,
It won’t cause those tears at night.

Please stop believing empty words,
And checking through his phone,
Love won’t instill these fears in you,
Love is peace you’ve never known.

She said she'd always be there

She said she'd always be there for me
As I weep on the floor of the bathroom after I had just emptied the contents of my stomach

She said said she'd always be there for me
As I scream and hit my head against the cabinet because the pain in my chest is excruciating

She'd said she'd always be there for me
But where was she when her and my dad yell at each other and I'm in my room silently crying as to not become the target of their wrath

Where was she when she yells at me telling me she doesnt want to see my face anymore

Where was she when I had nightmares and went to her for help and she just brushed me aside angrily and went back to bed

Where was she when I had my first major mental break down at six years old and my dad threw me into a cold shower telling me to calm down, making me cry more and the wrath become more severe

Where was she when I was nine and she yells at me because I dropped her Pyrex dish, calling me useless and then disappears into her bathroom to go smoke a joint

Where was she when I was ten years old crying and holding my knees because anywhere was better than there

Where is she where I sit in my bathroom with a blade and bad intentions

She'd said she'd always be there for me, but she's the reason I need someone in the first place

"i'd rather die," i say, with your fist pressed to my cheek
               "i need you here," you say, as you cry...
                                  my face is bleak.

why couldn't you ever see?
beyond the glam he gleamed
were gleaming screams
Of a child fearing her dreams

Things were always more severe than they seemed
The scars ran further than skin deep
Tears streamed lower than steep
Nobody helped me escape feeling beat

A fathers mouth should be for wisdom and love
Despite what tries to hold his tongue