Continually you ask that piece of polished silver

Who's the fairest of them all

You must have selective hearing because it certainly isn't you.

But that’s not what it's about.

Praise yourself because no one else will

Scars are too ugly on you so you give them to others

No one can love you, not even yourself.

Except for one….

That person did, and you threw it away.

You told me that you worshiped the same god I did.

You didn't. you won a convert though.
And we worshiped you together.

Slowly applying the blade.

Surgically removing my sight, blinding me to your hate.

But I wanted it didn't i?

I asked you to do it.

Initiate me into your cult.

I drank the kool aid that you'll love me.


Then something changed,

Like a switch flipped.

You didn't change, no… no you didn't

The surgery must have been temporary

Because even blinded I could see through your lies.

In last resort you pierced my ear drums with your screams

Your irrational anger towards me

When I did nothing wrong.

I sacrificed to you

Gave offerings of money,

Sex. Even first priority in my life.

None of this seemed to please my god.


Realizing this

I strapped a pair of loudspeakers to my head

 facing in so I can hear every word that you say.

 Every little word,

 whether you meant it or not I still heard it.

 My ears don't link up to my brain,

see my broca's area doesn't work,

 if you hit me there I don't stop hearing,

 as a matter of fact you've probably hit me there as hard as you can to stop it

but instead the ears lead straight to my heart.

 And you should hear them too

 because I gave you a little piece of it to keep safe for me .

I would love to see it now,

bent and broken

because those words pushed through those loudspeakers,

Are a little too heavy for them to handle.

This poem is about: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741