Daisies on Dirt Roads

Face down in the dirt and I said it didn’t hurt , “please sir just go on and be done with me won’t you?”

But it’s okay, “no worries,” I say.

I fight harder in my head than the pain I feel from being trapped in this bed—don’t worry about me! I’ll just lock up this trauma and throw away the key, only I know you’ll be back again to force me on my knees. 

Until then you’ll most likely be passed out on the couch after getting super high, leaving me there to sit beside you and silently ask myself, why?

Why does loving someone hurt so bad?

And not the kind of bad that comes from jealousy or worry, it’s the kind of fear that comes with the dread of knowing that once again each night you’ll be having to share a bed.

If only I knew then that it wasn’t supposed to feel that way. Bad days here and there—sure! That’s okay…but not a seven-year encore of real-life nightmares, no matter the time of day. 

The last time you laid your physical grasp on me was nearly 3 years ago now, so if we fast forward to 2024…why does it still feel like at any moment, you’ll come knocking on my door?

A crippling fear that’s intoxicating my life so will someone please just hand me a knife? Put an end to my treacherous misery, free my mind and let my soul get lost at sea; the water is always where I feel most free.

The bruises have faded but the cuts you made ran deep and left many scars on me…

Lately I’ve convinced myself I have become the monster that tortured me and induced this fucked up reality.

When you’re only 24 years old, 7 can seem like eternity and now here I am only a few years later and everyone thinks that by now it should all just be beneath and behind me rather than a part of my newfound identity. 

Like a wild daisy growing on the side of a bumpy dirt road, my display of resilience tends to be the only compliment I receive nowadays, as if everyone’s too afraid to say something more real— something that might actually make me feel.

For all people see of me is the girl that keeps on surviving, but has never yet experienced a genuine time of thriving— in life, love, or lessons that are thrown her way. 

One day at a time I tell myself, just one day…

Like a wild daisy growing resiliently on a dirt road, I accept that people will continue to overlook me since I don’t fit the norm of beauty standards in todays society— and having traumatic baggage on my back only tends to add to the lack of likelihood that I will be seen and treated well, due to my past conditioning.

Nonetheless I must admit, there is undeniable beauty in spirits of those who grow wild and free— despite the numerous attempts of those that come along to try and force us on our knees.