I grind
my teeth,
flat as slate,
as I sleep
and think of you,
of us,
of all the mistakes
you so carelessly
made.
I walked away,
couldn't notice
what passed me by
with my eyes glued
to the concrete.
You always said I'd
never change,
you were right.
So now I hold
my head high,
hide my heart
beneath my shirt.
I will never change,
and never will.
Maybe someday
someone,
something
will accept that.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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But the world thrives on change.
Although I am a big advocate of all that alters, I can appreciate the squirmishness when something from outside tries to force us to change before we are ready.
Sometimes it seems everyone else thinks they know what's best for us, as if we do not.
Great opening image, the use of "slate" and "concrete" works well in the poem, aside from the context you've used them in, they also give the feeling of cold, hardness, unbreakable, steely will, all which I believe to be relevant here.
Thank you for the read.
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