Is This Too Personal?

winny

Is This Too Personal?

 

People tell me I eat too fast. People tell me I eat too slow.

They whisper, “She is fat.” They yell, “She is too skinny!”

I am told I do not  need make-up to be pretty. But when I do not wear it they ask me why.

Why?

I sit here, in solitude, pinching my sides and leaving bruises because at least that is consistent.

It is not that I want to be alone. I want to get away from you.

Because you throw paper airplanes at my head, telling me everything that is wrong with me.

Airplanes that I can never fly off to an unknown world on.

I confessed to you that I am  having trouble, and you laugh right in my face.

Because for some reason, my feelings are irrelevant, I am irrelevant. 

Is this because I will never be who you want me to be?

Because I am not smart enough, I don’t know how to read your mind- I was never taught the art of worshiping you.

Sometimes I close my hands around my throat, making it difficult to breathe, simply so I might emulate the chokehold that you have on me.

Because I cannot live without you, but I cannot live with you either. My insecurities boil over, spilling all over the floor. The scalding water never felt so good, burning my flesh.

But I do not do it when you are looking, because I know you would judge me harshly. Not because it is bad for me- because maybe it is, I will admit to that much..

But you would judge me because that means I am thinking too much about myself, as I always have. 

I need to think of others, put their needs before mine. If they need to eat, I shall starve and waste away because they are simply more important than I am.

I often think of how things would be, if you understood. I wish you would hold me, cradle me in your arms- as a mother would.

But you pinch at my sides, leaving bruises- at least that is consistent. 

I have come to the realization that you will never be satisfied by anything I do. 

That does not change a thing.

I will not be content, because I crave your attention- the same way I crave that everlasting feeling of digging holes in my skin.

I want it so desperately, I do not even consider the consequences.

That I will only be hurt as you fail to love me the way I love you.

That the holes in my skin will bleed out onto the floor and leave me wasted, nothing left.

But I crave the consequences too, I suppose. That is the way my world works.

I want to get away from you and the toxicity you bring.

But please, (never) leave my side.

For I could (not) live without you.

I hope this is not too personal, and I have not scared you away.

It is just the way I feel for you, and the way you put me down.

Don’t stop.

Please, 

Stop.

  • Author: winny (Offline Offline)
  • Published: December 29th, 2023 04:43
  • Comment from author about the poem: Free Verse\r\n\r\nOpen to interpretation of the reader, as to the writer.
  • Category: Letter
  • Views: 13
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Comments +

Comments1

  • 2781

    This would be disturbing if fact?
    When we are secure we have no need to put others down. We live to build each other up.
    Not to be walked on.



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