Please, I beg, beat me with sticks and with stones. cover my body in bruises, tear my skin and watch me bleed. crush my bones and grind them to dust.
then take a step back,
and look at me.
look at the damage youve caused to my exterior. can you see it?
my battered body from the weapons you hold in your hands.
what about your voice. the most powerful weapon you own. the one you attack me with on a daily basis. the one that hurts the worst.
or does that not count because you cant see my pain.
well let me tell you right now, whoever said sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me
is a fucking liar.
those words you speak, slice my heart.
they push all of the air out of my lungs until I can't breathe.
they turn the tap on behind my eyes until water comes rushing out, with my self esteem escaping with it.
they explode in my stomach to a point where I feel nauseous.
they claw at my brain until I don't know what to believe.
until I don't remember who you are.
until I don't know who I am.
they force themselves under my skin and engrave themselves there, to be carried with me forever.
why wont you beat me with sticks and with stones when youre killing me with your own words.
I want the bruises, the cuts, fractures. I want the proof. I want you to understand that you're hurting me. Even if you don't care, I just need you to see.
I can't take much more of this.
Please.
YOU ARE READING
Scribbles, Thoughts, and Doodles.
PoésieA collection of mostly poems and a few stories. I will be continuously adding to this as I experience life and need a creative outlet to express myself. I hope this reaches people who can relate, and if you can't, I hope you get to know me as you vi...
