Archive for honesty

Am I Dead?

Posted in Healing My Own N-traits, My Childhood, Poems, Rants, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 12, 2012 by Aya
My dreams never came true
Am I dead?
My biggest shame.
My biggest melt down in life.
I have never come back from
Something in me has given up
For all time
I suppressed this
The thought
'I minus well be a stripper'
because I felt that becoming an object of a man's sexual desire
Would be the only way for me to have any form of affection or be desired
Wanted, Liked, looked at as an object of love and affection
Instead of an object of hatred and disgust
Yes I was an object of hatred and disgust
My mother couldn't help but roll her eyes at me every chance she got
I thought that it was all my fault
I thought that I couldn't do anything right or worthy of a happy reaction
My mother couldn't help but to put down my life and way of being
And I mean couldn't help
I mean I understand that she did the best that she could
I bow my head in compassion
But I am in knots
I can barely live
I can barely move
And I can't seem to make myself function to make my dreams come true
Am I dead?
I didn't want to be specified or tied down by you
Defined by your personal restrictions
How come I can't figure it out as I go along
Oh well, we've already been through this
I really am done with that part
Subservient
Cut me like a tree
I'm nubbed 
Shaking
In Pain
REtarded and 
Inflamed
Frozen and 
Trapped
Demented, tormented
By Bigger and Older People 
Immature
I wanted so much for them to be
Mature 
To give me advice
To be the one I called on
To encourage me when I fail
To catch me when I fall
They all want me to just accept them for who they are
What does that mean?
I will only know when.

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