How can you not see?
How can you not know?
Not hear

The manipulation beneath the concern
It may be real to her
The concern

“I just want what’s best”
For you
(For her)

“Best” is a narrow place to be
Pressure from all sides, pinning you in place

You’re just a puzzle piece
If you won’t make yourself fit in your place
She’s happy to help you cut off
                                                         the parts that don’t fit

Her image
Her vision for her world

It’s hard to resist
When she believes her own press
That she is the savior
The martyr

The truth is

She is a spider
And to be free of the web
Sometimes requires

Cutting all ties

Does my skirt provoke you?
Are you scarred by my top?
Does the length and depth define me,
Could I do a better job?

Am I made by what I wear?
An outfit I compose
The paint I layer on my face
The cut of my clothes.

You say I have no self control,
No power of restraint,
You place me in a little box
A student with a male teacher or peer.
It’s her fault he could not.

Hold himself away from her
Chain himself to the chair
labelling her his object
Instead of averting his stare

I’m not defined by cloth it’s purpose is warmth
Nor the body underneath
It is me and my intelligence

Does my existence provoke you
Fill you with disgust
Because my ability to choose
Is simply not good enough

For the standards you set me
The body I must have,
To be considered ‘pretty’
To be considered ‘bad’

My skirt can not be to short
My shirt not to deep
Because a low neckline
Will prevent my ability to speak

Does my happiness provoke you
My confidence in who I am
Because it’s taken a long time
To love myself

Turn the dial
on my back
and spin me around

Press the button
on my head
and push me down

Ring the bell
in my ear
bring on the sound

Push me off
the ledge
pick me off the ground

Check the crack
in the battery pack
no longer around

Let's play little word games
If honesty's so obscene
You can pierce a soul with icy prose
And still claim your hands are clean

Well I've created monsters
More harsh than your deceit
Forget the cold, my pen will bring
Words burning at your feet

So let's play little word games
I know that you know how
I've seen the disasters spilt
From tremors in your mouth

If it's "only words", then fine,
Let's smoke each other out
You say that you want sparks,
I'll be the fire in your house

He told me
He would never hurt
He would never lie
He would never leave

He told me
He would always trust
He would always give
He would always help

That's what he told me.

But he made me cry
He made me hurt
I had to lie
I had to leave

I gave too much trust
I gave too much of anything
I helped too much

He used me.

I was his mirror
His reflection
His vision of himself
That
Was his view of me

That was probably his view of anyone.

But it was him.

I am a distract yourself from the problem instead of facing things kind of person
I am a ‘the problem’ doesn’t exist unless you think about it person
I am a scared to be alone with their thoughts kind of person
I am the maybe it will just go away kind of person
I am the we can deal with it all another day kind of person
But the lie awake at night not being able to think of anything else kind of person
I am afraid to cry
Afraid to feel
Afraid to tell anyone anything that might make me slightly vulnerable
I can’t procrastinate but I can’t do it right now kind of person
I am the think of all the people you will disappoint kind of person
I am the kind of person where you think about me and realise you actually know nothing about who I am
My secrets
My dreams
My aspirations
I am the don’t tell anyone otherwise you’ll jinx it kind of person
I am the obsessive
I am kind (out loud)
I have emotions that are far to complex to verbalise or comprehend
My weakness is caring
My weakness is not wanting to upset anyone
And I know that sounds like a strength but it internally destroys me when someone says something wrong and I physically can’t open my mouth to verbally respond
And I try my best but its when I’m alone with my thoughts it hurts the most
When I realise there is no podcast, no movie, no Tv show or book to distract me from the inevitable
And you’re probably wondering what the inevitable is
But I don’t know

And that’s what scares me
That’s what keeps me up at night
Maybe a fear of failure
Maybe a build up of all those thoughts I’ve procrastinated thinking about
Maybe all those tears I should probably cry
But I can’t
No because then I’m weak
No because then someone can manipulate me
No because then I show that I’m not strong 100% of the time.
Even when I’m alone
And I don’t know why because I think people that can cry are brave I see their vulnerability as a strength because only the toughest don’t care what people think of them even at their weakest.
Plus crying is beautiful
And feeling is too
Because sadness hurts but happiness is ecstasy
And you can’t truly feel one without feeling the other
I am the fix your problems yourself kind of person
I am the don’t be a liability kind of person
I am the don’t weigh people down with your thoughts kind of person  
I have no idea but every idea of who I am as a person