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#untie
The venom in your snake bite glare ties my pain in knots, Knots don’t come undone Every time you yell I smell smoke You’re burning us, you know You’re burning us. And I’m drowning in the fire. You’ve got your magnifying glass in hand like a detective, And I know you’re searching for something better I know you’re searching for clues that we could make it better, between us But you always look in the same place, you always look through these piles and stacks of Anger that we’ve been collecting and you haven’t looked anywhere else, you know, no matter how magnified that Anger is, it won’t change what it is. You’ve been standing in that same spot searching for too long, and that magnifying glass is burning us And it’s not that I don’t still think you’re made of stars, because I do I still do I still need you, mom I need you to breathe, I do. You’re my oxygen, you always have been but This Oxygen is suffocating me. Do you remember that story I told you so many times? About that day in kindergarten when the craft table got new materials? When there was nice Purple Shiny heart shaped box and I wanted it So did everyone else, but I got to it first So it was mine I had it in my hands I had it But then the other little girl spent all morning talking to me about how she wanted it She wanted the pretty, shiny, heart-shaped chocolate box so that she could make a pretty gift for her mommy and I didn’t want to give it up, but I finally gave in to the guilt and gave up that box to her Do you know why? Because I thought about how I had the best mommy in the whole wide world and I wanted to give that pretty box to you because I loved you so much and I thought maybe that little girl loved her mommy the same way I loved you, and I understood why she would want to give her mommy a pretty thing and to this day, that time in kindergarten when I gave up my pretty box that I wanted to give to you is one of my deepest regrets, because I loved you so much and I wanted to give you that pretty gift. I still do, you know I still see you as the duct tape to fix what I broke and the hands that tie the back of my dress in a bow for me on Easter Sunday, sure I still see you as the lullaby I fall asleep to because I used to replay that recording of your choir solo you downloaded on my very first IPod for me every night before I went to bed one year when I was in elementary so that in case I died before I woke up, the last voice I ever heard would have been yours. Or in case you died at least I heard your voice last. I always romanticized death back then, but now I can see how icy the frosty fingers of death really are when the death of our old bond is staring me right in the face, Mom! Do you remember that one month I spent making absolute sure the last thing I said to you before you shut my door and left after saying goodnight was: I love you so that the last thing I ever said to you was “I love you”? Same logic, mom. In case you died before the next time I saw you, at least that was the last thing I ever said to you I never wanted you to forget, and yes mom, I still see you as the stiches in my torn up nylons but I don’t see you as my blanket on a cold day, anymore. I can trust you to save me, I can trust you to love me overall, in the end But I can’t trust you to comfort me and you tell me to call you when I’m sad, but you wouldn’t get it. I can give you ten reasons why you and I need you to stop chasing me into pain’s open arms and all ten are on my hands, balled up in fists that are bruised from fighting, I’m done fighting with you mom, I can’t anymore. I’m too tired. You start every knitting project and never finish it before you start a new one, and I don’t want to become just another unfinished project of yours, the daughter who left home and never sent more than 10 emails, one for each finger after that because it’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just that we’re growing so distant now that when we fight, the “I love you” is no longer implied and when you get angry, you’re scary You call me worthless, you swear at me, you say some awful things mom, and so do I, I know, But then you demand in irritation why I consider myself worthless as if I’m seeking attention or something when I admit to you how worthless I feel, well if you would quit calling me useless and worthless and I quote “The stupidest human being alive” maybe I WOULDN’T FEEL LIKE THAT MOM! Maybe your mom, who is supposed to be the over-sized, comfy hoodie you can come home to when life is getting too complicated is constricting you with her harmful words it’s hard to find any good in myself anymore maybe I’m just really hurt that you would say that to me. My sisters came along and they STOLE you, I’m sorry if that sounds like a selfish, angry six year old but I need to say it because I don’t care how unbiased you think you are, you never show me the underlying kindness you show them because mom, I don’t want money every time we go to the movies, I don’t want two pairs of Lululemon leggings or expensive boots I just want the Love I feel like you’ve lost for me when you didn’t have enough to give to all three of your children I just want you to Love me, mom. I’m scared that you don’t anymore, and God it would be so much easier if I could hate you but I can’t bring myself to. I wish I could say I hate you, but I don’t. Every time I cross the line and scream something unforgivable at you, when you cry, I can hear every teardrop that falls from your eyes crash to the floor and shatter, but I feel like you can’t hear me even when I’m screaming, even when liquid pain is pouring down my face mom I love you, but you can’t hear my tears and I feel like you’ve lost the Love you used to have for me. I wish you would come back to me, I wish you would spend just ONE night without insulting me, or yelling at me because I’m not exaggerating when I say you haven’t. Mom, I’m asking you to help me fix this. We are not going to find the answer to the Cold between us in this pile of angry, so please lower your voice and lower your magnifying glass, just stop burning us and help me rebuild our old bond, okay? The venom in your snake bite glare ties my pain in knots, but knots Can come undone Untie this pain with me?
0
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 11:43 PM UTC
Untie this pain with me?
The venom in your snake bite glare ties my pain in knots, Knots don’t come undone Every time you yell I smell smoke You’re burning us, you know You’re burning us. And I’m drowning in the fire. You’ve got your magnifying glass in hand like a detective, And I know you’re searching for something better I know you’re searching for clues that we could make it better, between us But you always look in the same place, you always look through these piles and stacks of Anger that we’ve been collecting and you haven’t looked anywhere else, you know, no matter how magnified that Anger is, it won’t change what it is. You’ve been standing in that same spot searching for too long, and that magnifying glass is burning us And it’s not that I don’t still think you’re made of stars, because I do I still do I still need you, mom I need you to breathe, I do. You’re my oxygen, you always have been but This Oxygen is suffocating me. Do you remember that story I told you so many times? About that day in kindergarten when the craft table got new materials? When there was nice Purple Shiny heart shaped box and I wanted it So did everyone else, but I got to it first So it was mine I had it in my hands I had it But then the other little girl spent all morning talking to me about how she wanted it She wanted the pretty, shiny, heart-shaped chocolate box so that she could make a pretty gift for her mommy and I didn’t want to give it up, but I finally gave in to the guilt and gave up that box to her Do you know why? Because I thought about how I had the best mommy in the whole wide world and I wanted to give that pretty box to you because I loved you so much and I thought maybe that little girl loved her mommy the same way I loved you, and I understood why she would want to give her mommy a pretty thing and to this day, that time in kindergarten when I gave up my pretty box that I wanted to give to you is one of my deepest regrets, because I loved you so much and I wanted to give you that pretty gift. I still do, you know I still see you as the duct tape to fix what I broke and the hands that tie the back of my dress in a bow for me on Easter Sunday, sure I still see you as the lullaby I fall asleep to because I used to replay that recording of your choir solo you downloaded on my very first IPod for me every night before I went to bed one year when I was in elementary so that in case I died before I woke up, the last voice I ever heard would have been yours. Or in case you died at least I heard your voice last. I always romanticized death back then, but now I can see how icy the frosty fingers of death really are when the death of our old bond is staring me right in the face, Mom! Do you remember that one month I spent making absolute sure the last thing I said to you before you shut my door and left after saying goodnight was: I love you so that the last thing I ever said to you was “I love you”? Same logic, mom. In case you died before the next time I saw you, at least that was the last thing I ever said to you I never wanted you to forget, and yes mom, I still see you as the stiches in my torn up nylons but I don’t see you as my blanket on a cold day, anymore. I can trust you to save me, I can trust you to love me overall, in the end But I can’t trust you to comfort me and you tell me to call you when I’m sad, but you wouldn’t get it. I can give you ten reasons why you and I need you to stop chasing me into pain’s open arms and all ten are on my hands, balled up in fists that are bruised from fighting, I’m done fighting with you mom, I can’t anymore. I’m too tired. You start every knitting project and never finish it before you start a new one, and I don’t want to become just another unfinished project of yours, the daughter who left home and never sent more than 10 emails, one for each finger after that because it’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just that we’re growing so distant now that when we fight, the “I love you” is no longer implied and when you get angry, you’re scary You call me worthless, you swear at me, you say some awful things mom, and so do I, I know, But then you demand in irritation why I consider myself worthless as if I’m seeking attention or something when I admit to you how worthless I feel, well if you would quit calling me useless and worthless and I quote “The stupidest human being alive” maybe I WOULDN’T FEEL LIKE THAT MOM! Maybe your mom, who is supposed to be the over-sized, comfy hoodie you can come home to when life is getting too complicated is constricting you with her harmful words it’s hard to find any good in myself anymore maybe I’m just really hurt that you would say that to me. My sisters came along and they STOLE you, I’m sorry if that sounds like a selfish, angry six year old but I need to say it because I don’t care how unbiased you think you are, you never show me the underlying kindness you show them because mom, I don’t want money every time we go to the movies, I don’t want two pairs of Lululemon leggings or expensive boots I just want the Love I feel like you’ve lost for me when you didn’t have enough to give to all three of your children I just want you to Love me, mom. I’m scared that you don’t anymore, and God it would be so much easier if I could hate you but I can’t bring myself to. I wish I could say I hate you, but I don’t. Every time I cross the line and scream something unforgivable at you, when you cry, I can hear every teardrop that falls from your eyes crash to the floor and shatter, but I feel like you can’t hear me even when I’m screaming, even when liquid pain is pouring down my face mom I love you, but you can’t hear my tears and I feel like you’ve lost the Love you used to have for me. I wish you would come back to me, I wish you would spend just ONE night without insulting me, or yelling at me because I’m not exaggerating when I say you haven’t. Mom, I’m asking you to help me fix this. We are not going to find the answer to the Cold between us in this pile of angry, so please lower your voice and lower your magnifying glass, just stop burning us and help me rebuild our old bond, okay? The venom in your snake bite glare ties my pain in knots, but knots Can come undone Untie this pain with me?
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116
Bad spellers of the world UNTIE!!!!! ...yeah well I'm an adhesive sloth. It's a miracle that I even CAN type what's your excuse?? :P
0
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC
Bad spellers of the world UNTIE!!!!!