rage. i should be raging right now. i should be screaming right now. at the top of my lungs. yet here i am, typing all this, breathing in and out, calming myself down. i could be venting this all to the wind; to you. i could be asking you why you're doing all this to me yet you here dead silence from me like what you've always wanted. to rage has always meant to accept to be in the wrong spotlight; the same reason fathers prefer the quiet younger child than the rebel older daughter. you never liked it when i fought back.
rage meant fighting back for what i think i deserve in this relationship. fighting back meant exhausting my energy just for you to see what i wanted. i never wanted to scream. i don't want to ruin my voice. all i wanted was to tell you to treat me better. why is it that when i fight back and scream for what i think i deserve, i'm the bad guy? fighting back meant draining myself just so i could hold both your cheeks and have you look at my state.
it's too much for me. i can't do the work you're supposed to do.
so i bite back my tongue and let you do whatever you want instead; whatever you think is right.
YOU ARE READING
letters after dark | poetry book 3
Poetrya collection of poems and proses of thoughts that fill up the void after dark. #1 in proses #7 poetry #56 in poem #5 poetrycollection book 3 of the poetic flowers series. other books : • a hurricane of blues • confessions i will never say and other...
