Believe Me

March 21, 2011
Why don’t you ever stop to think
How it is you make me feel with those steady, watchful, criticizing eyes
When every little motion is evaluated for the slightest of mishaps
What happened to daddy’s little girl?
She is all grown up now and trying to find her way
Yet you stand, intimidating, daunting,
Attempting to redirect and dictate every aspect
Every molecule of that which is meant to be me
But has become someone she doesn’t recognize
Another critique in the morning mirror
Imperfection in place of acceptance
I see the thoughts swirling in your head
Rebellion, depression; you just don’t get it do you
Please just stop.
You don’t understand the despair I feel inside
The ever-mounting sadness that threatens to overspill at the slightest prod
I try to improvise and repair before the beams fasten hold
Failure once again
What’s the point of excellence when it becomes ordinary
Nothing stands out accept normalcy
To strive is to grasp rejection by the throat and choke out your last words
What happened to the best friend?
The one who recognized the pain I hid and helped me overcome
Who knew what I meant to say before I even found my wording
Abandoned, replaced, no longer the golden girl
I would say I’m just me but because of what you all did and said
I don’t know who I am anymore; If I am anyone anymore

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