Those Who Know Me

Those Who Know Me



Those who know me…
Know…They know my eyes change color with my mood….
They know I’m just as comfortable in sweats, sneakers, and a fitted top…
As I am in a low cut blouse, heeled shoes and make-up…Those who know me….
Know….That I grew up in a dysfunctional home…
With an addicted mother…
And an abusive father…Those who know me…
Know…That I’ve been through hell and back in relationships…
Cheated on…
Lied to…
Used and abused by men....
But they know that I’m a strong, independent woman…
And I have survived…
And will continue to grow…
Stronger…Those who know me…
Know…What they want to know…
What they want to see…
What they want to hear…Because God forbid they know the loneliness in my heart…
See the pain in my eyes…
Or hear the hurt in my voice…God forbid they notice how close I am to the breaking point…
How at any given second that silky string holding me together will SNAP! Those who know me…
Know…That I keep all my emotions in check…
Plaster on a smile and let the bitter and thoughtless words that I have for the world dissolve on my tongue…But they don’t taste them like I do…
They can’t feel them
Sliding slowly down my stomach
They don’t notice that I’m getting full…
That every once in a while,
I’ll regurgitate, taste it again, and swallow it back down…They don’t know…
Want to know…
Feel the need to know
The urgency in which I need to find a way to expel all this chaos reeking havoc on my internal organs…
To dispel of this pain,
Confusion,
Disillusionment… What I would give for one single solitary moment;
All to myself;
Of pure happiness…
Joy…
Contentment…Instead…I suffer in a solitary silence…
While surrounded by friends…
Family…
Lovers…Who all desperately want to believe…
That they know the real me…
But who are not capable of handling the burden of knowing me…Not Ready…Not ready to witness the anger…
Frustration…
And insecurities of me,
Come to a boil…Not Ready…Not ready to counsel me…
Guide me…
Teach me how to function normally within the human race. Not Ready…Instead…They take comfort,
In foolishly believing that I am an indestructible rock…
Stable,
Steady,
Secure…Not Ready…And I take comfort in their blindness…
And my misery…
They do not see a problem,
And I do not see a solution…
They do not see me in pain,
And I cannot seem to shake it…
They do not see my inability to love without the total destruction of my heart being the end result…Not Ready…They do not see…
The torment…
Confusion…
Sadness…
In my soul…Because they refuse to see…
That this is all their fault…
For not trying…
Climbing…
Fighting…
To know the real me…They are…Not Ready…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2011

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Comments (1)

kickit22
powerful write indeed if this is the real you i hope you can seek some outside help to relieve the pain that you feel. your life is in your hands you have to keep reaching out and not act out on revengence to the people that mishandled you. there are plenty of people out in this cruel world that actually do care for the situation you seem to be in. keep on writting poetry is theraputic in its own way. wave
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by sexiebeckie
on Apr 2011
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Last Viewed: May 10
Last Commented: Apr 2011

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