Soul Preservation

Just listen to what they say

Because I may as well be all the bad things 

That they whisper 

Just loud enough for me to feel

Their hot breath staining my truths.

If I can be nothing else to you— 

I am those bad things; 

I accept my place,

And become what you say I am.

Now the pain my fault—

For embracing these patronizing voices.

It’s too late now.

I am now the bad things 

While you are credited with high pride.

My pain makes me mean,

So I lose more:

When I need it the most.

I try to heal:

Be good again 

But I am living in that shadow—

As that shadow 

And I don’t think I’ll ever be 

What I want to be 

Ever again.

So why did you give it to me, 

Even when I didn’t want it,

Then claimed I did?

And why was it my fault?

Was it because I let it happen?

Is it because I’m weak?

Is it because you’re better?

I refuse to believe my heart

Which has been so effected 

By ignorant whispers,

Because I know

In my head 

That I am so much more.

Where is my soul now?

It’s somewhere in those sheets 

On a cold spring afternoon; 

Or maybe you’ve kept it for yourself

Because you know, deep down

That mine was better than your own.