My Book Of Poems

Punching Bag

You say that you love me. You say that you're proud of how far I've come. You say that you can't wait to see how far I'll go in life. You say that you care but if you really cared, you wouldn't tear me down every time something goes wrong. You wouldn't leave scars on my skin from your verbal knife, I try and put up a fight but all I do is get knocked back down. I whine and complain about how bad you are to my friends but no one will see the pain you've inflicted on my heart, not realizing that the more you break it, the closer I am to flatlining. Tears stream down my cheeks, I can't help but cry anymore when you scream at me because I've been condition to take the next hit and I'm constantly left wondering during those moments when it becomes less verbal and more physical. You tell me that I'm your "little girl" and that you don't want me to grow up ever but I can't help the fact that I've outgrown you but not the other. The house we stay in is no longer my home and every time I'm forced to call it that, I choke on those very words and the idea of what's next. The professionals would call it emotional and verbal abuse, I just call it something that I'm use to. Because daddy, I'm supposed to be your little girl, not your punching bag.

Written By: BistyC