I don't lie
like she used to say I did
well, at least not anything important
but I found it easier to love her
than myself
to make excuses for her mistakes
than to face my own flaws
and accept them
Maybe I went off the deep end
because I didn't have a single person
to make an excuse for me
on the contrary,
I had quite the opposite
name calling
hair pulling
and slaps across the face
the embedded thoughts
of being no-good
slut that can't keep her legs closed
princess catie
who has grown men
wrapped around her little finger
with her tits and ass hanging out
she is playing us all
but I can see right through her
yes, I can see right through you
I won't lie, mommy
I tried to be good
Author notes
still editing
Im still revising this piece. Constructive criticism is welcome
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
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Wow Catie So much pain. I know how you feel. Ive hated myself for years. I have only recently started to love myself. I used to cut to try to make it go away. Im glad that you are in therapy. It is what helped me. Im here for ya Catie
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This was... just horrible. Not in the bad writing sense, but knowing the horrible things that have happened. I mean, this piece of poetry was.. wow. I'm lost for words. If you did edit it, I would make the beginning a bit more clear, if you know what I mean. But you are truly talented. Don't listen to anything else that people call you.
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I can't even form a comment after reading this. It just makes me incredibly sad.
Catie... don't let anyone tell you that you are anything but beautiful, talented, sweet, and good.
(by the way, this is an incredible write - very powerful, I physically hurt from reading the insults you suffered)
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Excellently captured.
I have rarely read a poet whose has satisfied me as you have done poem after poem. You have the talent others would dream of having. One typo: atleast. at least.
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thank you
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It’s a nice write
( maybe not the best thing to say here)
piece puts you out there exposed
it’s scary for the reader to read..
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I'm with Thomas Scott... tough to read... but brilliant.
I don't even know what to say to you Catie...
This left a lump in my throat.
Don't edit too much, okay?
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The title and the last two lines embrace an all-too-common legacy: guilt, sense of failure, a sadness that has nowhere to go.
You'd think that after all these generations we'd learn how to do it better.
It's tough to confront this stuff much less summon the cool craftsmanship required to turn it into a poem.
This was a tough read but a rich one.
Thanks, Catie.
Tom
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thank you.
ya, it's hard...its like brain washing...I still can't look at myself in the mirror because all my life growing up...I was told I was no good -whore / slut /manipulator / liar/ little miss princess...etc etc
it caused me to hate myself at a very young age. and now I just started therapy last week to deal with all this. hopefully, I'll be okay and finally be able to not only like myself, but love myself.
thanks for the read
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I'm glad you began therapy - hang in there, ok?
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damn. yup our mothers sound rather similar that is certain. Nice poem here, good ending, and a great title!
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thank you
thomas scott got exactly what I was trying to portray at the end. the sense of guilt and/or failure. even tho I did nothing wrong. I feel like I did. and the title I used, I thought it would be effective because she was usually drunk and it also works because I was under her influence as well.
thank you for your comments and stopping by to read
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Whenever I read you, I feel a little bit as though I'm peeking into a personal journal that spills forth the hurts and truths of your heart. I can feel your cringes, and in turn, cringe with you The things that are spoken to us linger in us.. no matter how much time passes. As always, I admire the rawness and intensity in your poetry.
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actually, you are peeking into my personal journals.
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damn... just off to work to give this the proper time/comment it deserves. I will be back to read it more thoroughly, though my first impression is good, so don't change too much. Love the title, btw.
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