I actually let you in
and showed you what it was like
to cry in unison.
We actually danced
as though we meant it,
but then
you decided --
maybe, you always knew --
that I'd be no good,
but not just for you.
You made me
out to be the incarnation of ugly.
I was emotionally
brutalized, as though you
were my sexy, little doll in our privacy
and I was your idiotic sidekick
in public.
I didn't matter-
I was your hideous project.
Nothing was ever your fault,
was it?
Instead, every lesson
was about how I was too jagged
and not good enough
to be considered
a man in a jacket.
You humiliated me
and punched down
when all I wanted to do
was cling to you
and tell you how proud
I was.
YOU ARE READING
the Dawning of Rage (poetry)
PoetryThis is a book of enraged poems. Don't say I didn't warn you! The purpose of this book, essentially, serves as a therapeutic outlet. This is NOT some manifesto, but a place of expression. Feelings of such loathing and hate, I don't believe, should b...
