The Mask that is Me

Every time he calls me stupid.
Every time he calls me a child.
I wish that he would just hit me,
Instead of lashing out with words.

Physical pain I can recover from,
Physical pain I can stand.
The emotional anguish,
Is too much for me every day.

I hear him call me an idiot.
I hear him call me stubborn.
These words are used as daggers,
And if I always cry.

If I do not cry I will cuss him out,
If I do not cry he wonders.
He tells me tears are a reaction,
That belongs to a little child.

He tells me I am an embarrassment,
He tells me that I am not good enough.
I still have far too much to learn,
So that my reactions will not be too much.

My actions are not becoming,
My actions are that of an unruly child.
I cannot be myself anymore,
I have to become refined.

A mask has been constructed,
A mask has been placed,
Turning me into a shadow of me.
The shadow hides the pain.