To the Ones that made me:
You put a roof over my head,
Lay clothes on my back.
Fed me rice, broth, and meat.
I wasn’t hungry for that.
--
Affection was scant,
Encouragement nil.
All these years later,
I suffer it still.
--
An unplanned arrival,
A nuisance, a bother.
You already had burdens,
Didn’t want another.
--
Unwashed at school,
Raised by TV,
Deprived of connection,
Knew not how to be.
--
Apathy and criticism
Were the most you could dole,
Crushing my spirit,
Wilting my soul.
--
If I dared show my pride,
Feel pleased with my art,
You made sure to kill it
And tear it apart.
--
I asked if you loved me;
You clearly explained:
We don’t love anyone,
Don’t ask again.
--
Desperate for touch,
A child with no tether,
Unable to love,
Damaged forever.
--
Every cell in my body
Vibrated with fear,
Transmuting to rage,
A dark souvenir.
--
Urges to damage,
Hurt, and destroy,
A need to tear down
Those who feel joy.
--
A freak has been made,
Too late to undo,
Misery stalks me.
It will come for you, too.
Signed, Your Monster
About the Creator
Nora Novak
I'm all over the place. But that's my charm, n'est-ce pas?
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A Digital Pandemic.
After a long day in the department, Emily dropped her worn and tired dark leather bag on the counter before navigating through the small and disordered kitchen to grab a cold beer from a contrarily empty fridge. She hadn't had a chance to unpack since moving from Newcastle to Glasgow, let alone shop for sustenance, except for cold brews naturally.
By Billie Whyte4 days ago in Chapters
Comments (4)
This is very sad , great poem of imagery . Brilliant use of words
“A dark souvenir” was my favorite line. Powerful, powerful poem. And so spot on for those who did not receive parental affection. Fantastic job. Almost cried.
Oh, I loved this. The ending was so powerful!
I loved this one!