Saturday, 22 July 2017

Why Can't I Be You? (August 16, 2012)

Why
Do I have
This need to be
Perfect?


Knowing
No one is.


Yet
It exists.


As
Echoes of my past
Keep resurfacing
In the present.


Haunting
Everything
I do.


A simple task
Like accepting
Or giving a hug
Is a traumatic experience.

As waves of anxiety
Flood my body.


Forcing friends
Or love ones away
Hurting them
By doing so.


While
My face lights up
Like a deer caught
In the headlights.


As my frustration
And anger build up
Internally.


Over my reaction
To their offer
Of support and love.


With each rejection
A part of my soul
Dies.

Therisa © 2012

Author's note: Another poem from my poetic morgue.

3 comments:

  1. I always love the honesty in your poetry, Therisa!

    ReplyDelete
  2. When one has been grievously hurt, I can well understand the anxiety, PTSD, and withdrawal. I see the same in someone close to me, who has lost all trust. It takes some good experiences to learn that love does not always bring pain. Nice to see you posting, Therisa.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Why indeed? The imponderables! I hope that writing helps. (It always does me ... though my problems are different from yours.)

    ReplyDelete

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