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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I hate this time It means I lost myself, again I was consumed By greed, by the chase If I already hurt, then what's the harm? I'm consumed with pain, Now swapping one addiction for another It doesn't mask, it doesn't relieve It buys time I hate this time It means I'm losing And I've never had a trophy And I'm used to acting, Entertaining.... Competing. You, you gave me no choice Making myself available to be judged While dolled face, skin tight fabric, dance steps ingrained in my muscles Terrified of going wrong as they peer. Judging commences, scores are in Who came to stare this time? I hear the knives from the mouths who made them Grown woman, for I was an easy target By mothers, for I was the runt of the pack I get told to smile and perform, to ignore and allow Pushed into the ring, by my own mother And I would never quite win I was a disappointment, I am no vessel for dream living for you I'm afraid, Mother. But there's no I in we, and we didn't have choices You made yours, we (not me, this she) put on a show... I was 6... 15 was the same, no need to repeat Rat-bag was the name she chose, A joke, but top of the double pages list - no less. It follows me, reminds me That I was different That hurts. I wasn't different My psychiatrist has said That hurts. She wrote it in black and write, so it's true. That hurt. I was normal in abnormal conditions Now I'm broken That hurts. Pills, no liquor Secret drawings with cards With powder Just one more That hurts. I'm shown love and care I feel hurt That hurts I hurt. I'm awake, And I hurt. I die inside, I hurt. I want to be numb, I can't. Constant torture and reminders. I hate this time. "Again?" ... Why not.
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