deepundergroundpoetry.com
So It Goes.
You have left me in a place
Where I feel as if I cannot
Move forward without you.
You have left me to believe
That I am a bitch when I
Express my emotions
And I am manipulative
When I speak freely.
Where passivity was
Welcomed so I could
Blend in with the furniture.
Pretty. Practical. Used.
You have left me in a
Place that I never committed
To be in, but I was expected
To stay.
And now my rage has surfaced.
Now I decide to be chief of my own self.
Go ahead and throw your flaming darts
Of self diagnosed injustice
And set your traps of pity and defence.
I have no ears to hear your war cries and enough self respect to not respond to your smoke signals.
My heart will not be cold or impersonal, neither will I allow it to be surround by things that are.
Things that you have caused me to believe that I am. I am warm.
And I am ready to kiss one who doesn't turn my lips to ice and my breath to vapour.
I am ready to be caressed and not clutched.
I am ready to be a warrior for my own cause, even if it means combating alone,
Not only being banished, but branded bitch and betrayer. You no longer hold the conch shell, nor do you possess any word that can pierce me.
That's what you always only ever had:
Words.
And to hunt me takes an action.
So it goes.
Where I feel as if I cannot
Move forward without you.
You have left me to believe
That I am a bitch when I
Express my emotions
And I am manipulative
When I speak freely.
Where passivity was
Welcomed so I could
Blend in with the furniture.
Pretty. Practical. Used.
You have left me in a
Place that I never committed
To be in, but I was expected
To stay.
And now my rage has surfaced.
Now I decide to be chief of my own self.
Go ahead and throw your flaming darts
Of self diagnosed injustice
And set your traps of pity and defence.
I have no ears to hear your war cries and enough self respect to not respond to your smoke signals.
My heart will not be cold or impersonal, neither will I allow it to be surround by things that are.
Things that you have caused me to believe that I am. I am warm.
And I am ready to kiss one who doesn't turn my lips to ice and my breath to vapour.
I am ready to be caressed and not clutched.
I am ready to be a warrior for my own cause, even if it means combating alone,
Not only being banished, but branded bitch and betrayer. You no longer hold the conch shell, nor do you possess any word that can pierce me.
That's what you always only ever had:
Words.
And to hunt me takes an action.
So it goes.
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