You stand there telling me
all the wrong that I have done,
as though it was not already known…
While I stand fighting the tears
wishing for the world’s open maw
to swallow me whole.
In digestion I believe that my pain
will be taken away.
You think that I don’t see
every flaw stitched across
this ragdoll body,
That somehow I don’t know
how much I do wrong…
That I somehow need for you
to teach me that I was not made
to be good or to be strong.
I listen to you list for all to hear
that which you hate about me,
and I wish to disappear,
falling into the void where I won’t be
to save everyone else
the problem of knowing me.