you mistook my scars as emblems of failure;
reopened the wounds
and inflicted further torment,
and told me to "get over it."
you yanked me by the neck
and strangled me
whenever I played the
wrong key.
you played me for years,
pulling on my strings
like I was a puppet
and you were my puppeteer.
like a dunce, I had believed you
when you said
that I was a nitwit,
a child who constantly needed a slap.
I gave you the gratefulness you demanded
and you asked for more.
with a bloody face and a disfigured body,
I thanked you with all the heart I had left.
YOU ARE READING
Fragments - daily dose of poetry and prose
PoetryYour daily dose of poetry and prose! (and maybe a glimpse to what's happening in my life.) It's basically a collection of my writings. May they give you a sense of comfort that you are not alone in the battle you are constantly fighting. Here's to...
