More Poetry / Writings

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The urge to be bad
Overwhelms me at times
It confuses me and
Definitely frightens me
It gets in my brain
And twists my thoughts
Trying to suffocate
All rational processes
It is the same urge that
Years ago
Tricked me into believing
I deserved to be abused
And degraded
"You belong with him,"
it would convince me
time and time again
It is that urge
That haunts me
Now and will continue
To creep inside my mind
Intertwining itself among
All other thoughts
It works so meticulously
Until it has invaded all that I am
To it
I am a rotten mother
A poor example of a wife
An undeserving daughter
A miserable bitch
A whore
An incompetent employee
When it takes over my mind
I feel
Worthless
Hopeless
Undeserving of love and help
It is such a struggle to fight it
And I am tired.

What do I do with the anger?
It appears without warning
It consumes every part of me
I want to smash everything in sight,
Break everything to pieces,
Destroy everything until there is nothing
I want to pull all my hair out
Dig the skin off my face
I want everything to go away
Why can�t things be right?
Everything is out of place
Everything is dirty
I want everything to be perfect
I have no control
No one understands
People think I�m crazy when I tell them how I feel
People think it would be so easy to just stop feeling
this way
BUT I CAN�T STOP THIS MADNESS
I can reason with myself
Fool myself for awhile, but I can�t make it go away
It all comes back
I don�t really want to die
I just want everything to STOP
Everything to go away
But that�s impossible
And death is not

I look in the mirror
A face stares back
Eyes cold and dark
I begin putting on my makeup
The eyes pierce through me,
as if trying to
figure out who I am.
I look deeper
In the mirror,
Into those eyes.
I see a woman,
Who is alone.
No one to go home to.
No children,
No husband.
In a big city
Where she walks through the streets
As if she were invisible
No one notices her and
No one would care if they did
Men use her and throw her away
She has no responsibilities,
No worries that people think bad of her,
Because she knows they do,
She is bad.
No feelings of guilt,
For she is who she is.
She expects nothing good,
So it is okay to feel hopeless.
She does nothing good,
So it is okay to feel worthless.
She lives a life of poor decisions
So it is okay to feel incompetent.
She isn�t crazy,
She is numb.

"Get out of the house and you�ll feel better."
The darkness is my shadow.

"You�re smart."
I�m incompetent.

To lose someone so very close to you,
Someone who is such an important part of who you are,
And to have no memories of this person,
It is such a horrible thing.
When I was young, I would try to convince myself
that having memories of her would be worse.
I would tell myself that memories would be terrible reminders of
what I was missing and that it was easier to go on with no memories.
But my heart knows and remembers even though my mind does not.
I miss her. I miss having her. I would give anything to have even one memory of her face,
the way she walked,
her voice,
her smell,
the way she laughed,
anything.
I have nothing.

Then there is my father. I have no memories of him either.
I don't know if he is living or dead. I have tried to find him every way I know how, but have had no luck. The loss of my father, even though it was not through death, is even more painful.
Does he think of me?
Am I that easy to forget?
Does he love me?
Did he love my mother?
I feel as though his lack of needing me, makes me worthless.

Men don�t whistle at fat women.
There aren�t any fat women in Playboy.
Movies don�t show fat women as the love interest.
Beaches aren�t made for fat women.
The Victoria Secret line isn�t for fat women.
In style clothes aren�t made for fat women.
Models aren�t fat.
Men don�t brag and show off their fat girlfriend.
Anorexia is suppose to be an illness,
They tell women it is bad to be too thin,
But they show them it is good
In almost every advertisement,
And in almost every magazine,
In almost every store women shop in.
They make fun of fat women
And dwell on the fact that they aren�t thin,
They make note of every pound they gain,
Look at Oprah, Elizabeth Taylor,
Hilary, Anna Nicole, and the list goes on.
There was just as much talk and jokes about
WHAT Monica did with the President
As WHY he would have done it with
Her because she was fat.
When they tell us, as little girls, that it is
What�s inside that counts,
They are setting us up for a big fall
And a rude awakening as women.