No words can describe the pain I'm feeling,
But I'm using them to take away the sting.
I sit in the dark at this computer typing,
Even though I can barely see the screen.
The backspace button has become my best friend
As the keys shake under my sobs.
I know the tear streaks on my face are glowing,
An unseen testimony of my pain.
I try to wipe them all away,
but it's a task done in vain.
From the force of my crying my face is hot and red;
My fingers won't stop shaking,
And I can't push the negative thoughts from my head.
Anguished gasps and pleas fall from shaking lips.
I muffle them in a pillow;
I never want my mother to see me like this.
The thought brings another round of tears
As confused and hurt as the first.
I'd never want my mom who has given me everything
To see me at my worst.
What I desperately need is to tell him
Even though it won't mean a thing.
All I want is for him to listen
And take away what's hurting.
There are so many things I want to tell him,
But I've never been good at that.
The only thing I can do is try to spell it out.
Parenting is not an easy street,
I can see that; I'm not blind.
But when have you ever been a parent?
You can't even pick me up on time.
You don't hurt the ones you love.
That's not how this works.
You're supposed to love them unconditionally
Despite all their little quirks.
Don't call me names, scream at me,
Or tell me that I'm a waste of your money.
I see the smile on your face,
But I don't think this is funny.
Every single word hurts,
And leaves a permanent mark.
Still you make me cry and act
Like it's nothing more than a walk in the park.
You insult my mother, my family, and me.
You make me feel so worthless
And it's starting to drive me crazy.
And even though this last part doesn't rhyme,
It is exactly what needs to be said.
If only I could get you to listen
Before I'm gone for good.
A father doesn't cuss out his daughter
Then drop her off at the bus stop.
He wouldn't make her cry
Then throw her to the dogs.
He wouldn't call her ugly,
and he wouldn't tell her she's overweight.
He wouldn't mess with her head
And make her feel that she's in the wrong.
He would come to her school events
and tell her he is proud.
Most of all, he would tell her that he loves her
And text her goodnight before bed.
So by the time my silly little poem is done
My tears have dried away.
In writing I have the courage to express
What I desperately needed to say.
To my reader: All I ask is that you understand that words do hurt. THINK before you say something.