Poetry

My words didn’t matter.

I wrote them in poetry when my life begin to shatter.

The abuse went on for many years.

I held in all of that scum for year.

The dirt that cause me immense hurt.

Blaming me for something they can’t see.

It changed my life forever drastically.

I haven’t spoke to counselors or psychiatrist.

That’s why I cut my wrist.

When I write I can express how I feel.

And not worry about others dead thoughts lingers in my ears.

I don’t listen because no one listens to me.

This judge me by my mental health or what they see.

You can’t tell me anything because you’ve never lived life as me.

I was always a lost girl with no one to turn to.

The abuse affected me tremendously if only you knew.

I can’t go to the downtown riverfront to find my peace.

But it was the closest thing to calming me.

The thoughts subside.

My best poetry doesn’t have to hide.

I remember my overdose .

Doctor said you’re lucky so close.

High on some med.

Next thing you know .I was parched ,with an IV laying on a hospital bed.

I’ve lost everything.I just know I wanted to be dead.

I love writing because I can be completely naked,blunt and express how I feel.

And no one to judge at all ,what a good deal?

My own father won’t listen to my poems and he’s knows I write.

I just wish he could just listen.

My poetry is perfection not just aight .

I tried but I’m stubborns daughter.

I feast off of my brain like I’m on an story

Everyday is not as cheerful or filled with glee.

Music is my balance ,poetry is my life my lifeline that’s why it means so much to me .