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.
