My Own

Sometimes you ask me why

Why did I ruin it?

That lovely skin that you never cared to mention

Was lovely.

You never cared to ask me why

I felt like the tears felt like they were running down my soul

Instead of my face.

Why I felt like the knife was tearing into

My heart

Instead of my skin

You never cared to ask why

Nobody ever told you that I look

Happy.

Instead you painted this picture

Of a quiet girl

Over there

By herself

Behind closed doors

In her room

Studying

Reading

Sitting by herself

Behind closed doors

Crying

Drowning

In a river

A sea

A flood

Emotion dripping down her face

Like condensation on a glass

Like water in a stream

Like a tide on the ocean

But you never asked past the

Tired

Tired

Tired

Of being here

On my own

In this room

Behind closed doors

Writing

My own destiny on my arm

So that my body could match my soul

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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