Poezja

Celine, 22 października 2014

she told me

she told me nothing
would ever get better
she told me i was too weak
too fragile to fight the war
that was each step and each breath, in and out


she told me i was at the bottom
that nothing was lower
that there was no ascension from
here, no exit
no hole
no way out because i
had dug myself in too deep


she told me i was too weak
that i was unworthy
that shame was a better suited
name, she told me
that there were people worse off
people with shackles
people with dry throats and parched skin
and people whose very lives were ripped
to shreds.


she told me i was too weak
she told me i had a roof and parents
how could i dare feel this way? how could i
feel like i was at rock bottom when there was more
there was more bottom than this rock bottom?
so she told me i didn’t deserve to feel this way
she told me i didn’t deserve to live.


she told me i was wrong that i
had been thinking of the wrong things, that
my life was constructed with broken glass and
watery glue, that my thoughts were not right
that i was doomed from the start
doomed from now to the end of eternity,
she told me i was destined for nothing.


she told me they lied, that their words were a mask and
their thoughts weren’t beside them, that they didn’t really care because
they had better places to go, better people to see, so she told me.
their smiles were for politeness and their hugs were bare and
empty, they didn’t care, they didn’t care, they don’t fucking care
she told me.


she told me to stop searching
that nothing was going to get better, that i was too weak
too feeble to stand up and find someone
that nobody cared enough to listen
that it was my fault it happened, my fault it was here,
my fault that she was grabbing me by the ankles
because i deserved it.


she told me to get over it


she told me people found me annoying
desperate for attention, for care or for love, whatever that means
she told me i was looking for attention
that nobody wanted to help, really
that i should stop pestering people whose lives actually
mattered.


she told me i should hide it
that it was a shame to carry it around, that i should smile
with my muscles and cry with my heart
that people would at least know i was a human, then
that i wouldn’t bother people
she told me to stay quiet.


she told me so much that even now,
even after mastering my smiling and learning
the laughing, even now after so much time
even now when i know she was wrong
even now i can hear her voice ringing
reverberating against the frail ribs of my inside.