You’re a failure. These words are like needles (that burn me with hurt and pain.)
I always wondered why my father sees me as a failure.
Was this the reason why I’m constantly black and blue, my arms swelling with each hit of his boot.
My mother stands there with her aqua eyes and brown hair and simply says Marie do what he says please.
As I walk the short mile to the cliff, I wonder why I always have to please others.
When can I please myself and do what I like without the painful stings.
As I stand on the edge of the cliff, staring into the eyes of the blue ocean.
I debate whether to take my mother’s advice or for the first time in fifteen years think for myself.
Then those painful words uttered from fathers boot come back to mind, Failure failure failure.
I say to myself no more thinking and I walk off the cliff into the arms of the smiling ocean.
As my body hits the ocean’s surface I gasp as the waves swallow my body, I desperately try to take huge gulps of the salty ocean water.
My vision starts to blur and I feel my body gasping for that little speck of air, as I begin to descend to the ocean floor it whispers to me You’re not a failure Marie..