Inflicted

Salam 3lykm

Sh7alkm? I know I said I'll stop asking this question, but that was before I knew I had so many wonderful yet silent readers. This is a thought that just came to mind as I was finishing up a poem I started last night:

"I am but an open book that people roughly flip through, not caring whether they rip or smudge a page as they do so."

This poem reduced my mother to tears...needless to say, it was smudged beyond recognition as I wrote it last night. I had to struggle to understand what I had written, so I could complete it today. Yes, I am unbelievably sensitive, so never believe when I tell you..I don't give a damn about what people say. Because the truth is..I do. I leave you with my latest, 'Inflicted'.

Your mockery; like a burning coal
I'm trying to ignore what you say
Charred flesh; down to my soul
I promise I'll walk away someday

You don't know I've been affected
I hardly think you would even care
Resentment, your words reflected
I wanted to dissipate into thin air

Acidic retorts yet burn my soul
I know not what I said or did wrong
My happiness you heartlessly stole
Made me feel like I never belonged

I thought you were different
I thought you would reciprocate
Seems like humanity now lies stagnant
Iron-fisted to give; Needily greedy to take

I dedicate this to all those who have successfully hurt me with their mockery, and who will continue to do so, especially after coming across this post. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for showing me I'm still human, and susceptible to your sweet venom.

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh