Discord

Abigail's Mental Meanderings

I feel the
stress cracks
housing my soul
widening with
every strike
of your vocal tones
shouting
without hearing
or considering
the pain
that you cause
as you
mumble jumble
your impenetrable
rage. Your
cold black
sounds ripple
irregularities
through the
daughter of
your cruel
rejections.
Keep the
strangers
that are okay
with the
venom that
drips from your
tongue.
There is
no pride
in hatred.
Long ago
I knew
I would never
be good enough.
Possibilities
of acceptance
was only
in my
imagination.

New intonations
remind me
that I am
rejected.
Our hearts
bleed the
same strands
of DNA.
Healing
is not
possible.
Forgiveness
is just
another
momentary lie.
Your continued
acidic discords of
“I don’t give a shit!”
and
“Because I say so!”
penetrate ancient
familial veins
poisoning hope.
I am no
longer your child
to be spoken
to however
you please.
I am the woman
you hoped

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