Post by loekie on Jan 8, 2009 20:21:14 GMT 1
Another hit,
But no tears.
Another kick,
But no cries.
Used to the pain,
I’m left to wonder.
What have I done wrong?
Why do you hate me?
Does this make you feel ‘big?’
Will I be the same?
Sometimes, late at night, just after you leave,
My mind wanders,
I whish I could be you
That I could cry,
Scream, hit, kick, anything to rid myself of frustration.
But that for me, is out of the question.
Emotions are a weakness,
And yours to be destroyed.
Is that your master plan?
To just break me down piece by piece?
Until there is nothing left.
When I’m left down on my knees begging for mercy,
Is that fuel for you?
I suppose it doesn’t matter.
Nothing I ever do is good enough.
You will always need a punching bag,
And I never will have enough courage to stand up.
Never be brave enough to call it quits.
Huddled in the dark corners of my room, my prison, alone,
Alone until he decides it’s time for another round.
If the people at school only knew…
They’d have a field-day,
a big party even.
Not that I blame them,
They have no reason.
I pushed them away.
With carefully made up arrogance,
Well placed sarcasm, sneers and crude remarks.
Footsteps on the stairs. Heavy, determined.
I know what is to come and brace myself.
I rise to my feet … what had I done now?
The steps stopped in front of my room.
The door opened.
Another round leaving me broken on the floor.
Will this ever stop?
Pushing myself from the cold marble I lay down on my bed exhausted closing my eyes.
Should I just give up?
Throw in the towel?
Would I even be strong enough?
With all these questions I remain,
Trapped in a world I wanted to escape.
But no tears.
Another kick,
But no cries.
Used to the pain,
I’m left to wonder.
What have I done wrong?
Why do you hate me?
Does this make you feel ‘big?’
Will I be the same?
Sometimes, late at night, just after you leave,
My mind wanders,
I whish I could be you
That I could cry,
Scream, hit, kick, anything to rid myself of frustration.
But that for me, is out of the question.
Emotions are a weakness,
And yours to be destroyed.
Is that your master plan?
To just break me down piece by piece?
Until there is nothing left.
When I’m left down on my knees begging for mercy,
Is that fuel for you?
I suppose it doesn’t matter.
Nothing I ever do is good enough.
You will always need a punching bag,
And I never will have enough courage to stand up.
Never be brave enough to call it quits.
Huddled in the dark corners of my room, my prison, alone,
Alone until he decides it’s time for another round.
If the people at school only knew…
They’d have a field-day,
a big party even.
Not that I blame them,
They have no reason.
I pushed them away.
With carefully made up arrogance,
Well placed sarcasm, sneers and crude remarks.
Footsteps on the stairs. Heavy, determined.
I know what is to come and brace myself.
I rise to my feet … what had I done now?
The steps stopped in front of my room.
The door opened.
Another round leaving me broken on the floor.
Will this ever stop?
Pushing myself from the cold marble I lay down on my bed exhausted closing my eyes.
Should I just give up?
Throw in the towel?
Would I even be strong enough?
With all these questions I remain,
Trapped in a world I wanted to escape.
