Criticism
The criticism is unbearable.
When you speak your words tremble in my ear.
I'm too vulnerable because I believe in each word.
The words I read after each text appears in my mind.
Echoing through the walls in my room.
More lies in a line than the actual answer in math.
About or approximate? No, it's just automatically wrong.
Each syllable of every tease pounds through my head.
The sarcasm became lyrics of a song. It created a melody that I'd never forget.
The playlist is on replay even though the albums are on shuffle.
The lies that encase within each sentence runs through my veins. Drowning me. Tearing me apart. Draining the nutrients that had been there.
It's not your fault, that language is common in many places, but it shouldn't be someone's first.
Only if you had learned to walk before you learned to talk I wouldn't be deaf.
