Sep 05

i am bitter

i am not strong.
i know that, so stop
trying to make me believe it.

i am not strong,
i am weak.
my coffee brown arms
strain to hold him away.

there are always tears
on my face.
because if you can't
fight something, what
is the point of trying?

i am not strong,
but my heart is callused,
and so is my skin.

because when you are
not strong, when you are
weak, you get used to
being thrown
away.

i am tiny.
i am insignificant.
i am most definitely
like other girls.

and i am weak.
i am weak, i am
weak, i am weak,
the wind forces my whispers
back into my head
as i whimper like
a pathetic
child.

i once believed
that when the time
came, i would be
strong. i would fight
(him)
and i would win.

when the time came,
my voice caught in my 
throat, my fingers pushed
blindly,
and i ran away.

because i am weak,
i am tiny,
and i will forever
be bitter.