Dad, Are We There Yet?A Poem by scarlynn
I was locked in a tower.
People often ask about that tattoo. "It's so beautiful, the line-work is exquisite. What does it mean?" It's supposed to symbolize freedom, but sometimes it looks like the way out. Sometimes the princess locked in the tower wants to stay. She wants to stay and memorize every crack in the ceiling. She doesn't want to be saved. She learned to enjoy it. Enjoy the way she was hard-wired. She knows it's wrong. She was never anyone's princess. Princess is an insult. I spent a lot of money on that artwork. I got it done in a foreign country. It represents one-half of the reason I'm here. I'll never tell him that it represents what he did to me. I think about what will happen to my tattoos once they are no longer animated. I feel close to them, but much closer to what happens when I'm gone. It's hard to get up again. I'm giving myself kidney infections. I feel cold. Something tells me to stop taking my medication. I need things to be tangible in order to change. I need it to be a "real" emergency, otherwise no one will believe me. The voice telling me to stop taking medications is desperate. She's begging. She's been here for such a long time that I'm being cruel in my compliance. She is so close. She's getting so close. Deleting everything, she doesn't want to see her face, it doesn't belong to her. I will only have one parent that fought for me. The rest is my fault. I didn't come here a boy. Relapse will just drag it out. It'll set an example. An invitation. Pressure. I can't do that. It's not that I don't care. I care so much that I can't morally fathom being alive any longer. I just wanted to feel like the music. © 2021 scarlynn |
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1 Review Added on October 5, 2021 Last Updated on October 5, 2021 |