I can honestly say I am not a fan of change.
I am a creature of habit and I thrive for consistency.
A man who claims to have raised me lives in his own pattern.
Everything is calm for months.
Everything is habitable in his presence.
I feel as if he deserves another chance, maybe I can forgive him.
He snaps. I am yet again left the sniffling fool.
It repeats.
Those months of monotony and simplicity are where I find a half-way comfort. It's almost safe.
I've built a business plan to make the consistency last:
-put on a smile
-always listen and agree
-nothing ever bothers me
-be malleable like tin-foil
The man thinks through his rage pattern he has taught me to be tough. To stand my ground.
Nothing could have made me more naive and vulnerable.
YOU ARE READING
post writing class highschool poems
Poetryim posting these here more for myself to keep them organised. also writing this are a p healthy way to cope so I'm gonna try to write more. reminder @ myself to start a new one once I graduate.
