You’re such a mendacious hypocrite.
Calling me fat, ugly, and worthless. But,
You’re the one who is fat. Ugly.
Worthless.
Your beer belly jutting from beneath
Your tight shirt.
Does saying that make you critiquing my flaws make you
Better than I?
Does it compel you to feel your flaws trump mine?
They say, Sticks and stones may break your bones,
But words will never hurt you.
It’s a jest. A loll.
Drowning in my own happy sorrows,
I put up a strong front to conceal my feelings.
On the inside I’m broken. Crumbling.
Crumbling like a sandcastle, long forgotten.
Broken enough to cry every damn night
Just to evade crumbling being weak in front of you. To evade
Your s***-eating grin, exposing your crooked yellow teeth,
Gleaming.
You see me hurting day in and day out, yet,
Instead Of racing to my side, like any good father would,
You turn your back, and walk over the threshold,
And leave.
One day, you’ll hurt like I’ve been hurting,
For an eternity.
I’ll glimpse at you, and in a heartbeat,
I will turn my back, consequently, not seeing anything.
Just like you’ve done so many times before.