Weak.

On to the next place

she was on to the next mistake

another man who promised her the world.

 

As her dreams came crashing to a halt did she wonder what would become of me?

Another couch, another floor for me to be

loneliness was the only thing with stability.

 

Before I felt as though I could only trust myself

all that pressure on a girls' chest crashing like bricks.

I was suffocating and I provided the pillow.

 

My knight and shining armor, my father

could have been my savior all this time.

But how could I know?

Am I weak for wanting help?

I felt like the world was against me.

 

Without asking, he saved me.

He pulled me through the fire, but not before I felt the burns.

The scars are permanent, but I am healing.

There were nights I used to cry so hard my eyes felt as though they were bleeding

He told me I could pull through.

 

Now I will not hesitate

I will not curl into a ball shutting the world out

Never again would I give my happiness away for someone else's mistake

For I am not weak.

 

 

This poem is about: 
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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