Call me scarred
Call me hurt
Call me trapped
Say what needs to be heard
Hit me till I'm down
Scream in my face
Watch me fall
Say I'm a disgrace

I won't listen

Tell me I'm broken
Ruin my day
Break my legs
Lock me away
Say I'm disgusting
Call me the devil
Remind me of horrors
Throw me down
On so many levels

I wont listen

Say I'm a sinner
Some soul-****** monster
Hate me
Take me
Try to break me
Feed me lies
Show me enemies
Plan my demise

I won't listen

Steal my eyes
And all I love
Rob me of a home
Of confidence
Make bullets rain
From above
Burn my body
Call me a demon
Take all I know
Put me in pain
Say my ideas will plummet

I won't listen

Hurting I am
But that's just
The everyday life
Of a suffering little poet

when i was little, my dad told me
“fortune favors the bold,”
but i thought, for the longest time,
he was saying
“fortune favors the bowl,”
and honestly?
that made more sense to me.
because i’ve never been bold,
but i’ve always been empty.

i learned the right phrase eventually,
but i didn’t do anything with it.
it sat there,
just another thing i wasn’t brave enough to believe in.

i let things happen.
i kept quiet when i should’ve screamed.
i stayed when i should’ve left.
i left when i should’ve stayed.
i waited for signs that never came.

now i hear that phrase and it feels like a joke,
like a door that only opens for people who push it hard enough.
and maybe i could’ve been one of them,
if i wasn’t so scared of being too much,
or not enough.

fortune favors the bold.
and i’ve never been bold.

i wish it was enough.
why can’t it be enough?

i wish you meant it when you say you love me.
i know you think you do,
but you don’t.
because if you loved me,
you wouldn’t be leaving without saying goodnight.
i know you’re not asleep
because you always fall asleep early when i’m upset.
i get it.
i’m too much.
i’m only good
when i’m telling you how much i love you.

if you loved me
you would’ve said
“stop rereading your old poems,
they only hurt you.”
you would’ve said
“baby i love you
and i wish you didn’t feel like you have to cut yourself.”
and you’d mean it.
when i tell you that i want to anyway,
you’d say
“don’t.
but if you do, be safe.”
and i wouldn’t.
because you love me.
but you don’t.

if you loved me,
i’d feel it even when i’m sad.
even when you’re speechless.
and even when you’re upset with me
for being upset.
but i didn’t.
i felt like
i ruined everything.
and i felt like
you didn’t love me.
please come back to me.