A Punching Bag of Glass

A Punching  Bag of Glass mental abuse stories

lpenlow Slow and dark poems
Autoplay OFF   •   4 years ago
Please, recognize abuse and leave it.

A Punching Bag of Glass

They've seen me before and have noticed my ways. My walk and run, my laugh and scream, but not a single cry hidden behind many smiles.

I've seen them before and have noticed their ways. Their kindness and hate, their evil laughs and narrowed eyes, and many cries caused by a foolish trigger.

Their eyes become red, drenched in a flood. Mine stay the same - a dull dry. Their face becomes puffy, while mine is already so.

A dam breaks on that porcelain face. But dammit mine is still intact. Damn the dam that owns my eyes and damn the dam that drowned on her's.

He came to me and said that we're alike. Later he showed me that once again he was right about my purpose.

To love. To care. To notice. To listen To hear. To be there.

Just like him, I try my best. Just like him, I hide my hurt. Just like him, I'm made of glass.

Some glasses are stronger, while weaker ones shatter. I wasn't born with luck. I rarely obtain it. So, I hope that this damn dam always sticks together.

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