Wednesday, September 3, 2014

The Good Girl

Maybe I was meant to cry easily.
This was intended when I was designed,
To expose my heart for all to see.

But I had to be fixed, 
The masses said I was broken
Chipped and cracked,
In need of a repair.
It was necessary if I didn’t want to fail.

Change the décor.
Better drop something inside too,
‘What’s wrong with you?’ 
Don’t let an emotion through!  

Altering my brain to create a veneer,
More palatable to the world at large,
Than the substrate underneath.
Through chemistry and masonry
I’ve nurtured a façade
For the comfort of others.

Now I don’t know who I am
What have I done?
Only what I was told
Tried to be easy and tried to be fun
Followed the rules, towed the line.
Apparently all too well.  
Another inquiry has come.
With a hint of bewilderment as to how
The damage is still there:

‘Why don’t you care?’

The Importance of Subterfuge

Always pushing down a black terror.
Cramming it back in,
Stuffing it into its cage.

Every. Single. Day.

Wake up and shove it down.
Cover it up.
Dress it up.
Pretend I don’t know its name.

Shhh…

I think I know, but I won’t say,
Because everyone would hear.
I can’t have that.
They don’t want that.

Can’t have it out there,
It has been loose before.
There were consequences.
It cost too much.