Jello Backbone

I never learned to speak up
Never built the nerve to speak out
I was always told to be quiet
When all I wanted was to swear and shout

I stammer when I speak
Second guessing the words my mind dictates
Petrified of a possible flaw in my message
The nerves in my body fail to translate

Day to day I'm afraid to speak my mind
Words of sadness or worry come out as anger
Flogging stripes on the backs of my loved ones
Tearing down bridges and building barriers

I question whether keeping the peace is worth my pride
Or how to silence the echoes of Papa's browbeating
When Mama always told me to be quiet and take it
To this day the whiplash still mindfucks me

Teachers and mentors told me I could be somebody
The South told me all I could be was an RN, a wife, a mother
I'm sinking to my knees in red quicksand
Clinging to a red sand, blue collar made lover

My gypsy soul told me to run while I still could
But my heart still looked for someone to lean on
I can't stand to see myself give up everything I've ever wanted
But how can I break away when I was never raised to have a backbone?