socio-political self-help and stuff
i guess what you are witnessing
is the seeking of rejection
inside of acceptance.
reflections of a seven-year-old girl
waiting in vain for her daddy’s love
that like him, ain’t there.
glimpses of a twelve-year-old
chasing that boy over the hill
screaming out she don’t like you
knowing full well that i do.
because deep inside the surface
of this tough exterior
are those little girls.
lost. alone. afraid.
of letting anyone in.
because everyone leaves.
and everyone says that they won’t.
but everyone is gone now.
it’s what they are used to.
it’s what we’ve come to know.
it’s what i create
because it feels comfortable
like a favorite sweater
made of rose thorns
three sizes too small
yet worn everyday
believing that it can’t be taken off
because the opposite can’t hurt
nearly as much as the holes in my soul
plugged and pacified by this pain that i know.
pain that i use to keep you at bay.
help me to remove this hurt. this pain.
this tight ass sweater restricting my ability
to even dream of letting you in.
because even though i want us
more than anything else in my life,
i find myself
seeking that familiar comfort in chaos
that hurts so good but has gotten old.
the truth is…
i need you.
and i’d rather have your arms around me
than this stupid sweater
with all of its thorns
worn a few seasons too long.
it’s time i take it off.
and be nude. exposed. and vulnerable.
©2013 rachel m. walls
performed at m.a.d. studios/ augusta, ga