Fire and storm
Clashing Raging
Trying to understand
The cause.
No one will know
No one will remember
Not then, not now, not ever.
Each instance common as a heartbeat
Fading into the dark
Do you remember?
The time before this?
When I wasn’t a surface?
When my last memories
Weren’t of hate?
When you could talk to me?
When you could see past
The thousand imperfections?
When my face was okay?
When I could tell a story
Without you getting me in trouble?
When I could trust you?
Contempt is like acid.
Creating a thousand burns.
Every inch of me covered.
You can’t see it, can’t feel it
Until someone reaches out.
And then it hurts, burns.
Because I’m not good enough.
I shy away from the touch.
Back into the mask.
Painted face of what I should be.
Of what I could be.
That is what is good enough.
That is excellence.
That was the standard.
Did you want a doll or a daughter?
Remind me I’ve forgotten?
Was there ever a difference
A difference between the two
In your mind?
You wanted the
Doll
Never the daughter.
Because dolls don’t talk
They don’t say no.
They just smile
The paint never chips.
The mask is perfect.
No matter how you scream
The doll never reacts.
It doesn’t require anything.
Doesn’t ask, doesn’t beg.
You can forget it for a while.
And when you come back it’s
Still just fine.
Sadly,
You didn’t get what you wanted.
The paint chipped.
You should know.
It chipped at your hand.
Well the back of your hand.
They say three strikes and your out?
I guess I just kept calling fouls
Because you got way more then three in.
Dad broke up a fight once.
Another time you said you wouldn’t
Not again, once you saw the welt on my face
Nope, never leave evidence.
The last time. Well, who gives a shit.
You didn’t. Never did say sorry.
Three days later. After no speech.
All you did was start telling me
Go do this. Go do that.
Like nothing had ever happened.
I remember.
Even if you’ve forgotten.
Or is that why you turned back to the bottle.
Guilt started overwhelming you?
When you realized I couldn’t forgive you every time anymore?
When you realize I resented you?
But I don’t think that’s it.
Because you never seemed to remember.
You told me once.
I don’t remember what happened.
I remember feeling angry.
And then nothing.
Nothing…
Cloudy
Red clouds
Like poison
Mind pollution.
I don’t remember when this all started.
When the clouds formed.
And your heart hardened.
I knew that when I was little
I was afraid.
Afraid to show you my grades.
Afraid to tell you how my day was.
But I didn’t know why.
Didn’t understand.
Still don’t remember enough.
I don’t remember elementary school.
Life started in middle school.
It ended with power school.
Grades.
You had access to them.
You wanted excellence.
I wasn’t that.
I was close.
But not close enough.
I got two versions.
Yours.
And everyone else’s.
The rage the curse the hate.
I remember those days.
Thinking you were guna tear my head off.
Feeling my heart pound like a cornered rat.
Fight or flight.
I always flew.
Always wished I could just fly away.
Away from your voice when all you said was hate.
When all that came out was the monster.
But I didn’t understand.
I was too young.
I didn’t understand that that monster wasn’t you.
It was speaking from your lips.
But it wasn’t you.
But I couldn’t handle it.
It was your face I looked into as I heard the words.
It was your eyes that the fires raged in.
It was your fists that slammed the table
Slammed so hard that I almost jumped out of the chair.
You liked that didn’t you.
Watching the fear you inspired.
Watching the control you had over me.
Make me dance.
Dance to whatever tune you wanted.
Called me weak when I cried.
I deserved it.
I was weak.
But not for the reason you assumed.
I was weak for keeping silent.
I didn’t tell anyone for years.
I told my friends sure because they saw me cry.
But I never told my family.
I never could.
To them we were close.
It was what was expected.
Cookie cutter.
They didn’t know me.
They never saw you.
By the time I got to high school
That was it.
I was no longer myself.
There wasn’t a happy little girl.
There was a doll.
A face painted in a smile.
That held no happiness.
No hope. Just apathy.
This is what’s expected.
Maybe it will be enough.
It wasn’t enough.
Not for you.
I finally got it.
Three years into high school
Perfect grades
After all the years and tears and struggle
Perfect.
Excellence.
What you wanted.
But when I showed you.
All you said was
“The classes are too easy”
“They aren’t pushing you hard enough”
“You didn’t earn them”
And that’s when the other shoe dropped.
I snapped out of it.
And I realized I didn’t care.
I didn’t give a damn about what you wanted.
About what you expected.
It didn’t matter.
Because it would never ever be enough.
It was freeing.
It saved my life.
Realizing that your satisfaction was impossible.
But that I could appease what was left of myself.
They ask me these days.
What do you mean that’s not good enough for you?
When all they see is excellent.
All I see is imperfection.
What could be better.
What should be better.
They call me an overachiever.
I just chuckle.
And think “If you only knew what that meant.”
To have you look me in the eye and tell me that’s not good enough
But you didn’t look me in the eye
Not near the end.
Couldn’t stand my face.
Couldn’t stand the surface.
The paint was smeared.
No longer perfect.
You accused me of having an eating disorder.
Because I was never pretty enough or big enough for you.
I didn’t. I had a problem with food.
But not like that.
For me.
You’d made dinner times into target practice.
Sitting duck for 20 minutes.
Had to eat.
Had to listen.
Drink in the scorn
The contempt.
Every time you ate with me.
Without fail.
20 minutes.
Open fire.
Broadside.
Boom boom
Critical Hit.
It linked in my mind.
When I eat. I have to endure this.
I didn’t like eating after that.
Can’t sit at the kitchen table anymore
Without my stomach churning.
Without hearing your screams echo in the empty room.
Never good enough. I demand excellence.
I still don’t like to eat.
Bad memories.
But not because I’m afraid of food.
Because I’m afraid of you.
But again.
It isn’t you.
It’s what’s inside of you.
Eating away at you.
Taking you away from me.
I hate it.
I always have.
I’ve never hated you.
Just what you’ve become.
What you’ve done.
But now you’re gone.
And I can finally find the words to try and vent some of the resentment.
Some of that hatred that’s burned against my heart.
Burned me late at night as I hear you laughing at me.
Burned me as I looked at my grades and listened to you scream.
Burned me as the tears burned my eyes when I got scared.
Burned me as I started to not care about anything.
Burned me as I lost myself and slipped into routine
Burned me as I realized that I had never had a mother.
Only a mom.