in my dreams I hear them screaming
and they only ever would scream my name
because there was no gentle way to say it.
they called me 'Sarah'
and it was bad
and i came to learn my name
to be a term of hatred
a bad word
to only be used
when something is fucked up.
I still call myself Sarah
at times
when i make a mistake
when i fuck up
when i want to kill myself
when my depression becomes to overwhelming
so distorted
so controlling
that all i know
is that i am a failure
and i am nothing more
than a name
worth screaming.
YOU ARE READING
Colors I Cannot See
PoetryChildhood is a time of joy and despair. A time of love and hatred. A time of growth and stunted reflections. ______ Nothing Graphic in this book. However, the themes are dark. Content/Trigger Warning: Abuse, childhood abuse, attempted suicide, self...
