I’ve never really understood why people chose to abuse me, and the scariest thing is that they never did tell me, I never asked, I never bothered because none of them ever admitted it. And I’ve always been scared , to come out and be myself. No one cares for me , no one cares about me ,so long as I am doing what they want and putting up with their crap. I’ve always been confused , was I right or were they right? Was I supposed to take it , everyone seemed to be pleased whenever I just shut up and took it , so I did it more and it became a habit and then it grew into something I called myself. Even when I wasn’t being abused I wished I was because speaking up was challenging , doing what I liked was excruciating and it bore guilt and I began to suffer. I remember suffocating and not being able to breathe ,I knew something in me was dying and I could not shake it off. I remember life becoming unbearable and it just kept getting louder and louder but I never really knew how to speak up, fight or even ask for help. I’ve always wanted attention but not when I was in pain, no one likes asking for attention because then it’s no longer attention. I was used to being quiet, everyone liked it when I was quiet so I kept on being quiet and now I don’t think I know how to speak properly. I love talking , I love being loved , I love making noise, I love moving around and occupying as much space as I possibly could. I’ve been made so small that it hurts to trying to be whole again. I want to be comfortable but it sucks when I have to be quiet to do so and why , why do I always feel so guilty. I don’t believe I can fight more than I do though I feel like I’m not even fighting at all. Pain is the only language I’ve really actually understood , I’ve been feeling it all my life and I somewhat became addicted to it , it feels wrong not to be in pain and I wonder if there is any help for that besides someone nagging me to love myself. Of course I love myself, I just don’t know how because whenever I try I’m told I’m doing it wrong . When you’ve been abused you never really know who to trust so you end up not trusting anyone. I get mad at the people who have had it easy in life. I sleep and wake up in a beautiful ugly body I can never know whether to love or hate and because I am addicted to pain I hurt myself because I love the scars as much as i love the pain. I hate almost everyone , not for personal reasons but because I am never really comfortable around anyone . There is always something to dislike so I am never comfortable because I like being liked. I have been told I am annoying and it stuck to me and every time I try to love I end up feeling like a fly or a rash. I hate that I try to please everyone when no one rarely ever wants to please me and I hate that I can’t control it and when I try I end up feeling guilty. I don’t want to stop trying , I feel closer to winning almost every time I try. I wish this was a pretty poem so no one will find me annoying.
YOU ARE READING
THE BOOK THAT NOBODY READS
Poetry[POETRY] I think a lot, as the rest of the world does. Sometimes my thoughts do make sense, but most of the time they are too much for me to make any sense. When I can, I write what's in my mind and what plaques my imagination. I write what I see, I...
