One word out of her mouth
penetrates my skin like a thousand bullets,
one sentence like an invisible military force,
pushing me further into my already broken shell,
the shell of a girl who knows not how she used to be.
One
more dejected thought,
One
more minute of hearing an irritating voice
One
last second left before my heart will burst
One
last breath, stolen away from me,
everything happening in increments of one,
One, One, One.
One child,
restricted of her birthright to freedom of speech,
One unrelated person,
brought in by marriage,
whose MO appears to be to rid herself of
the burden of another's child,
or at the very least to
use the child as her personal picker upper.
Maybe,
maybe not,
but to me,
one person,
one girl,
one sophomore doing
more than she bargained for,
one child,
it seems so.
Sad that this one child feels this way,
because this one child only plays nice
for her father loves this one unrelated,
and this one child is not one to interfere.
This one child does not want to leave for college
and have her father lonely and unhappy.
But then again...
he doesn't exactly seem too
happy with the unrelated either.
Maybe one day,
this one child can figure out
how to rid the tensions and hostility
that lingers in the air every time
the unrelated enters a room.
A/N
Poem based off of step (unrelated person mentioned) getting mad and calling me a child for putting on pj's AT NIGHT just to go outside and walk my dog. I put them on bcuz I was going straight to bed after and NOBODY is outside to see me.
Oh, and news flash, I AM a child. Fifteen years old is still the age of a child. I am still technically a child until the age of eighteen. Even then, you are basically still a child. Why the heck would I want to act older?? It is usually considered a bad thing when people say you act grown, just saying. *eye roll*
P.s. This idea was added to a chapter a week or two ago, which is when the event happened.
Song: One More Night - Maroon 5
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Body {Prose Vol. 1}✔
Poetry❝A struggle with body image is a study of physicalities and of the mind itself, for the mind plays with what the eyes perceive. The body, mind, and soul are connected, and it is up to us to determine how to respect them.❞ - Me These writings are my...
