Haunted By A Non Physical Being

Thu, 01/19/2017 - 14:02 -- citrees

I’m laughing, smiling,

Dancing like I own the world at age seven.

Stars handpicked like strawberries for only my eyes to eat

Nothing could tear me down.

 

It’s when he tells me though,

I stopped smiling and laughing so much after that.

 

A boy with no mean intentions,

A seven year old boy who’s just a blunt child says;

You smile weird and you laugh too loud. Like a hyena.

 

Dumbfounded, I asked, A hye-e-what?

Hyena, he said,

They laugh like “hye he he he he!”

 

Since then,

I could feel eyes on me

eyes on me, on me, on me

eyes all on me

 

Every new waking moment spent thinking,

“They hear it, they hear it. Does she think that too? Does he? Do I sound like a hyena?

Are they waiting to hear that obnoxious high giggling?

Is my laugh that ugly?”

 

My mom would ask if I was okay at school, did I have a good day

And I said sure

Because I couldn’t just say, “well Mom lately I think I sound like a hyena and they’re kinda ugly

And by comparison, that actually means I’m ugly and I think about this all the time

And I feel everyone’s eyes on me waiting for me screw up”

 

And if I had told her, she would have said,

“Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words will never hurt you”

 

Who in hell said this? What idiot came up with this?

Do they not know the power of language? Do they know the fragility and weight of a word?

Call someone beautiful, make their whole day spent like they can float on feathers

Call someone ugly, make their whole life time spent self conscious

 

Words will never hurt you

They will never hurt you

hurt you

Hurt

 

Do they know that words will haunt?

 

I’m laughing and smiling again,

Dancing like the world and I are buddies, we are homies, we waltz slowly as I turn 17

I don’t look at the stars anymore because everything in life shines

 

It’s when he tells me though,

An irrelevant boy with no direction,

A 17 year old boy who just thinks he’s funny,

“You’re a whore, a goddamn slant eyed whore”

 

And I’ve been called a whore before, despite never engaging in sex

And I’ve been called slant eyed before, despite never really being slant eyed

And the words don’t hurt me

 

They haunt me

 

I feel 7 again, I feel all the eyes, all the eyes all the eyes on me

“Is my shirt too low cut? Am I dirty, disgusting?

Close your legs, it’s an invite, they’re watching me, looking, waiting like predator on prey”

 

My mom would ask if I can help her with the dishes, the cooking, get my homework done

And I would say sure

Because I can’t say “Hey mom, my guy friends think it’s funny to call a girl a whore,

and when I say girl I really mean me and it makes me feel filthy”

 

And she would have said, “Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words-”

Words are haunting, they will burrow themselves and make a home in your bones,

resonating against the walls of your body

Words never leave you until your mind's gone and even then,

 

They still rattle when you move

When you walk, they whisper like a sweet unwanted lover

Words are haunting and it hurts when they haunt

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741