SingersFit

Something is cooking inside me,
like an insidious restless creature.
I was bitten by his poison,
their poison,
all of them,
not a single one was clean,
and my capacity for taking in
has reached its limit.
Pain, hurt, injustice,
frustration, unfairness.
Please, someone hear me!

Now I find myself speaking like him,
acting like him,
his spite, coming out of my mouth,
when I don’t intend to.
I over-react.
I am less patient, less caring,
reckless, and even rude,
even
with the people who don’t deserve it.
What am I becoming?
Is this what it feels like to be them?

I express my truth and my needs unfiltered,
people don’t like it.
They only liked me when I was quiet,
when I agreed,
when I was smiley,
when I was the pacifying one,
the holder,
when I was the wise one,
the common sense finder.

But now that I speak my pain out,
seeking to be seen and held,
they tell me I am the narcissist one,
that I need to calm down,
that I am aggressive.

They don’t see that I am not attacking them,
that I am protecting myself,
screaming what I never screamed.
And yet they take it as an attack,
but when they judged and wanted to control me and I kept quiet
I was the holiest of women.

I always held everyone.
And now that I need to be held,
they all have left me.

When one pours over and over,
it becomes the very thing it’s pouring into.

Regardless,
silent or outspoken,
the fate of the truther is to be alone.