PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I don’t let you see the pain inside of me

Because it’s easier to bear it alone.

I want to crawl outside of this envelope 

That was sealed with years of being told I was never good enough.

I want you to read the letter inside

That I was too scared to send.

Cursive handwriting that might as well be braille,

Even given the chance, I’m too jumbled to decode.

Every time someone yells,

I’m brought back to when she would yell at him,

Throwing plates and chairs to prove empty points

And empty bottles and baggies stained from outside in.

I became the brutality, the icicle, sharp and dangerous

Hanging off the side of the house, ready to strike anyone

Who dare come near it.

I began to melt when my demons finally clawed their way from my eyes.

I lost my sharp point, and let you inside, not knowing you could read braille.

You quietly slipped past me, like a stranger down the strip,

But not without brushing your hand on my hip.

I felt the current of a thousand volts shock me to reality, 

And I realized that I could always read braille.