Count to 10, and walk away


So, it’s Thursday again, and I just wanted to start this post by saying that this week’s poem for #Prose4T could be interpreted in a number of different ways. It was not necessarily written from my perspective (although throughout different parts of my life it very easily could’ve been) but it could also have been written about me, when I was ill with PND, or by someone else completely. Thank you, as always, for reading x (Oh and next week I promise to write something more uplifting 😉 !!)

Count to 10, and Walk Away

Your words go deeper than you know,
Hurt inside deep down,
Childish words said out of anger,
Pure nastiness behind the frown.

Said to cause me so much pain,
To cut me when I’m weak,
Uncontrolled outpouring of hate,
Whenever to me you speak.

Is it because you feel so guilty,
Because you don’t know what to do,
Is it because you hate me,
Because I really feel that you do.

You never offer comfort,
Your words are never soft,
They are nasty, mean and horrible,
From across the room they waft.

Make me feel it’s my fault,
That I’m not worthy of your love,
Make me feel so horrible,
They envelop me like a glove.

You know just what to say,
Just what will hurt the most,
And you make me a shadow of my former self,
A tiny, insignificant ghost.

You don’t know when to stop,
You can’t control your voice,
It’s as if you are possessed by evil,
As if you don’t have a choice.

But it’s when the children hear you,
When they see you be so cruel,
That I feel I’ve let them down the most,
That I feel like a total fool.

They shouldn’t be around it,
Shouldn’t hear those words be said,
They should only hear words of kindness,
Only have nice things in their heads.

So please next time you hate me,
Or don’t know what to say,
Bite your tongue, keep it closed,
Count to 10, and walk away.