Not Beautiful
Here I am on the ground again
been awhile since I touched cold pavement.
Funny how the last thing I remember
is always you standing over me with a hammer.
You wait until I'm beaten down,
then ready aim: pound, pound, pound...
Why am I always on your radar?
What makes you have to tear me apart?
I stand my ground
then turn right around
and question myself.
Maybe I'm bad.
Maybe I'm wrong.
No, just weak
cuz I let you get to me.
You think I'm wrong,
inexperienced.
I might be young,
but you're just sick.
Sick as you watch tears form in my eyes,
Sick as you stand and watch me cry.
Sick as you watch with a smile.
Sick.
But I refuse
to cry in front of you.
Yes, I've lost tears over you.
Yes, I've felt needle-pricked and bruised
but...you're just sick
so I won't cry in front of you.
It's people like you
that make me think I'm not beautiful.
Do not say you love me.
Do not act like you care.
Do not touch me.
Do not lay your head on my shoulder.
Don't you see?
It takes every last ounce of long-suffering, peace and self-control
I have to be close enough to share recycled air with you.
You're sure not my family or friend.
Its people like you that make me think I'm not beautiful.
Copyright © Joy Bohland | Year Posted 2011
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