(no subject)
Oct. 30th, 2022 04:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Untouchedstone/Your yardstick resigns
Every time I said "I love you" you heard that you weren't good enough
Or maybe that you were good enough this one time and you should do the same thing again and get your gold star
But you never heard "I am a person with a heart which warms when you're near".
And you never reached out unthinking to feel the glow on your fingers
Every time I said "I hurt" you heard that you weren't good enough
And maybe that you should spring into action: self-denial or defense
But you never heard "I am a person with a heart which hurts from living in this world"
Though you eventually learned to break your bones and fashion them into a cradle, until you stopped
Every time I said "help me" you heard that you weren't good enough
And shaved your hair, and scattered ashes, and beat your breast in the public square
But you never saw me finish my labour alone, unassisted, then quietly go out with broom and dustpan
To sweep ashes up from the square
And clean hair off my carpets
Someday I'll thrust the dustpan back into your hands.
You'll never understand why I stopped talking.
_______________________
I ask what now out of habit
But this time I have no prepared strategies for mending
And in the other tab, only this poem
Every time I said "I love you" you heard that you weren't good enough
Or maybe that you were good enough this one time and you should do the same thing again and get your gold star
But you never heard "I am a person with a heart which warms when you're near".
And you never reached out unthinking to feel the glow on your fingers
Every time I said "I hurt" you heard that you weren't good enough
And maybe that you should spring into action: self-denial or defense
But you never heard "I am a person with a heart which hurts from living in this world"
Though you eventually learned to break your bones and fashion them into a cradle, until you stopped
Every time I said "help me" you heard that you weren't good enough
And shaved your hair, and scattered ashes, and beat your breast in the public square
But you never saw me finish my labour alone, unassisted, then quietly go out with broom and dustpan
To sweep ashes up from the square
And clean hair off my carpets
Someday I'll thrust the dustpan back into your hands.
You'll never understand why I stopped talking.
_______________________
I ask what now out of habit
But this time I have no prepared strategies for mending
And in the other tab, only this poem
no subject
Date: 2022-11-05 09:43 pm (UTC)💚