Always expectant, rarely receiving.
When there is a note, a message or call,
It is not from you.
Food on the table, I should always be grateful.
My stomach was full, but my soul was empty.
I had important questions, you liked to give answers.
But they were answers for you, not answers for me.
You thought you knew me so well,
But I know now that was not true.
You thought me manipulative just for displaying emotions.
Then you dismissed them as 'silly' and I learned they were wrong.
There was the strange dissonance between my tears and your laughter.
It was never funny for me.
I wait. And wait and feel disappointment.
I am not surprised at the lack, there was always neglect.
I start to hate myself for wanting and waiting and feeling.
Shouldn't I be over this by now?
Getting worked up about something I did 'wrong'.
Inconsolable, I start to feel curious.
My reaction is out of sync with my 'sin'.
I look underneath and find the old pain.
I don't want to, but I let myself feel it.
It grips my stomach and I silently scream.
It doesn't last as long this time.
Maybe this process is moving along.
Healing the little girl, who is hiding within.
Sitting in the dark closet, I learn to reveal.
The truth that is there, if I let myself feel.
No comments:
Post a Comment