Said I Had A Pretty Smile, Then Started Knocking Out My Teeth.
Said My Voice Was Angelic; Then StartedAttacking It With Demons.
Said I Danced Oh So Graceful; Then Shaded Me With Those Who’s Moves Were Much More Distasteful.
Said I Was Admired For My Mind, Then Started Calling Me Crazy When My Goals & Their’s Were Unaligned.
Said They Were In It For The Long Run; Then Disappeared When Things For Me Were Cold & Desolate, Lacking Of Sunshine.
Said They Loved Listening To Me Express Visions, Then Started Discrediting Every Word I Speak, Keeping Me At A Distance.
Said I Made No Sense & People Should Not Listen; Then They Copied & Circulated What I Say In A Way Less Authentic.
Said I Was Lazy & Never Get Anything Done; Then Created Obscure Obstacles To Stand In My Way Just For Self Fulfilling Prophesizing.
Said They Would Always Be There For Me; Then Judged Every Act, Choice & Decision Behind My Back Without Consulting With Me.
Said I Was Beautiful; Then Started Criticizing My Body & Movements.
Said I Was Worth It All & More; Then Around Others Called Me A Clingy Loser.
Said WE Were A Team; Then Took My Ideas As If Their Own & Never Involved Me.
Intercepted My Thoughts, Disheartened My Heart, Led Me Into Complete Darkness Until All My Way Became Lost.
Pretended I Was Nothing Yet Using What I Was For Them To Become Something.
Failed At Recognizing My Worth Until Eventually I Felt Like I Was Worth Nothing.
It Was Then They Finally Felt Accomplished, Finally They Were Worth Something; Finally They Were The Ones That Were Important.
At Least Energy Is Restorable; Until The Vessel Is Incapable. At Which Point Energy Becomes Transferable; Butterfly Tranformance.
About the Creator
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insight
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Keep reading
More stories from Damaged Good(s) and writers in Poets and other communities.
Pardon My Dust
Please Pardon My Dust; Seems I Was In A Rush. Going Nowhere Fast So I Kept Destination On Hush. Actually I Told The World I Was Going Up; Catch Me Amongst The Gods, I’ll Be The G Going The Hardest. What A Bluff. Where Was Up. The World Rotates & Up Only Comes Once Per 180. Unless You Keep It Moving, Gotta Keep It Rollin. As Long As You’re Moving The Ball Keeps On Going. At That Point You Only Go Forward; Guess That’s What It’s Like To Be Apart Of ‘Society’; Those Are The People That ’Keep The Ball Rollin’ Just Like A Hamster Wheel. The Only Up Is Forward BC The Ball Has To Keep Moving. Who Runs On Top? The 1s Refusing To Stop, Refusing To Allow A Bottom To Feel Anything Short Of A New Flowering Pot; Perhaps Thus A Garden. What’s Being Grown? Well That Will Require I Ascend From My Ball. That Will Require I View From An Elevated Level In Order To Asseess Elsewise Unmeasureable. Rather Have More Of Nothing To Start Something With Than Less Of Something Just To Say I Have It. The More Nothing Present The More Room To Make What Is. The More There Is Something The Less Room For There To Be More Present. More Nothing Until The Somethings Feel Like A Good Replacement For Space. The Potential To Grow Is The Space WE Live In To Be, Expansion On A Continuation Is Demanded For Exceptionality To Presently Victory. Help Is On The Way Unless Denied & Pushed Away. Rather Be More Than Less Though Less Is More BC Then More Of Anything Can Be Present. The More Something Is The Less Room For What Something Can Be; The Less There Is The More There Is Room To Be; Seemingly Methodically.
By Damaged Good(s)about a year ago in Poets
Our Song
Evening has given way to night. Gently, I settle next to you on the comfortable, old love seat and reach for your hand. You snatch it away, again. It cuts me to the quick, but I hide the pain, understanding that the reaction is but part of your demented state. Since the accident, your presence here in our cozy home has been clouded by a haze I can't see. Nevertheless, I feel the frigidity of your expressions and it serves as an excruciating reminder of the immeasurable distance between us.
By Dana Crandell3 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.