You're telling the audience a sermon that I was the reason why your bargain, anger, hatred rages like a wildfire. Preaching a story that I was the character who is responsible for plotting your death.
Sure, keep on preaching. But let's face the reality, let the congregation know the truth. Let your audience know the reality, because they deserve it. That you're the one who put the gun in my head, you're the one who made everything miserable, because of your words that made me feel worthless.
The question ponders within your head, yet, you fail to answer them, "Am I just a woman that is only an experience, an one night stand woman that you had sex with and left me in the next morning because you already satisfied yourself?"
The thoughts weighs over my head, wondering if I am just a person that is with you when your bluest days hits you.
Was I the person that I ask for footnotes nor a shortest time of your life, yet was never been heard, seen, and even valued, because of your absence?
What a shame, you dream to be a person who wants to defend for others, but you, yourself, fail to defend me.
YOU ARE READING
Beyond Diaries and Prose
PoetryWhat makes you have the urge to speak a word in the night when no one hears you scream in the first place? Beyond Diaries and Prose is a self-written poem written by paperseph (formely danjosephbayona). It's a story about his pain from the past, a s...
