Tonight,
I'm here to talk about a woman. A brave, brokenhearted kind of woman.
This is for the woman who struggles every night with,
A heart full of pain.
She cries a lot,
She tries when she knows it's hopeless.
She found herself with a sociopath,
Who I will fucking hate,
Till the day that I die.
Because he had no right,
To walk into her life,
And take her from me,
Then destroy her,
And refuse to give her heart freedom.
Even when she tries to give up,
Tries to move on,
He just holds her back,
With chains and metal bars.
He had no right to
Snatch away her beautiful smile
To glue those tears on her face
And claw the goddamn life out of her
Because she loved him.
And because she believed him,
When he told her he loved her.
I don't care,
What problems he had.
I don't care what emotions he didn't have,
He had no right,
To destroy the last sliver of trust,
Of hope,
Of belief,
That she could ever love someone.
That she would ever be good enough,
For someone to love her.
And don't you ever tell me he couldn't help it,
Because you weren't the one who cried in the car two years ago as your grandmother,
Drove you away from the house where your mother stood crying,
As you prayed to that God that she wouldn't die from all the pills she swallowed.
Don't tell me,
He's excused,
When you're not the one who has to lay awake at night as she cries herself to sleep for the 447th time and counting, because there is nothing you could do or say to comfort her that would make any difference to her, that would make the pain in her heart a little less, that would stop her from hurting.
Don't you tell me,
He could ever be forgiven,
When you're not the one who crawls out of bed at 2 am for the fifth time this year so that you can greet the Farmington PD in a bra.
Don't tell me that I should like him,
When he rips my soul out every time I lay beside my mother and pray that there was a way to make it stop hurting, for her to see the utter beauty that she is without him.
The mother,
The friend,
The daughter,
The advocate for victims of sexual assault, domestic abuse and rape.
I wish that she could see,
What we see,
When we look at her.
I wish that she could see,
How much her smile brightens up a dreary, rain-filled Monday morning,
And her laugh,
Lights up an ill-lit room,
Like mine,
When I write about how I miss my mom.
My mom when she slept peacefully at night,
My mom when she trusted,
My mom when she planned vacations,
My mom when we came home from dads and we were so big,
My mom when,
She was strong enough to be a mom without our help.
My mom when she could do anything.
And I think that if I could be brave, I'd tell him to get out of her life!
If I could be brave, I'd tell her to move on!
If I could be brave, we'd learn together how to be happy on our own!
No...
No, if I could be brave I'd ask her to come tonight.
YOU ARE READING
My Poetry
PoetryI try to arrange my poetry from my better stuff to my suckier stuff but sometimes I get lazy so probably not all of them are arranged properly. A lot of these are poetry assignments to write a bunch of different types or forms of poetry or do someth...
