This undying dread,
isn't eased by a friend.
Because walking in fear,
won't stop till I'm dead.
There is no end,
and no one to hear.
Holding my keys between my fingers,
ready for the fight,
"just incase."
Clutching at the pepper spray until it triggers,
ready to leave a mark,
"just incase."
You teach me and teach me,
how to protect myself, just incase,
how to behave myself, just incase,
incase your sons act up.
All this protection,
carried on a daily basis,
isn't justified,
until the result reaches our administration.
Knowing all the basics,
and keeping myself dignified.
Enhancing my fight or flight,
ready for the fight,
"just incase."
Sharpening my nails at night,
ready to leave a mark,
"just incase."
You teach me and teach me,
how to fight for myself, just incase,
how to speak for myself, just incase,
incase your sons act up.
But had you turned it around,
taught your sons instead,
you would have kept me safe.
But you kept yourself bound,
left your daughters as they bled,
and let our image be chafe.
So you taught me and taught me,
how to run from myself, just incase,
how to fall from myself, just incase,
until your son snapped and lost me to him.
YOU ARE READING
𝗣𝗼𝗲𝘁 𝗠𝗲 𝗔 𝗣𝗼𝗲𝗺
Poetrya collection of letters, poems, and short stories from deep within, a little addiction with it too; welcome to the emotions of the awkward teenage time we all once had.
