and i'm done bending
folding
collapsing
under weight of words.
i won't give you
the benefit
of seeing me cry,
you can't mold me
anymore.
even if it means
that the door to my room
stays locked
like every other
room that i'm in,
i won't give you
the pleasure
of contorting me
until my spine cracks.
i've grown strong enough
to know
that even now,
you break me
more
than you put me together.
YOU ARE READING
Perian
PoetryThe poems that I've always meant to share, and the poems I've always meant to write.
