They say they don't want me doing things because they don't want to stress me out. Yet they expect good grades, and a sweet mode, but what they don't realize is breathing alone stresses me out, Nevermind trying to be perfect.
They got upset that I was suicidal, they said they know what's best, yet they're the ones who- when I was unborn- wanted me dead.
They say they love me then put me down. They show me off, but I want them to know that if- no WHEN I commit it will be to escape them.
Their voices haunt my thoughts, my memories, my dreams. They tell me I'm never skinny, smart, or pretty enough.
But You, my dear, are the mute button, the calm to my storm, the still glass ocean. at the same time you're my wildest roller coaster and my greatest feat. You're rip currents in my veins, and you give my butterflies steroids.
I love you. Thank you
YOU ARE READING
Poems by Joelle C Johnson
PoetryPOEM 4 SEXUAL ASSAULT TRIGGER WARNING! Many of these poems are ones I have previously written, without dates or titles. I will do my best to add poems every so often with dates. This is mostly so I never lose my works and I can always find them, but...
