Dancing in Cupboards

“Don’t dance darling” my mother said
As I shimmied down the store aisle.
“Write when you’re ready” they said
As they ripped the pen and paper from my hands.
All the energy I put in up until this point.
All the sweat, tears, and blood was for them.
Yet they take me for granted.
I love them all, so I protect them the only way I know how-
I push them away.
Far. Far away from.
From all my hurt and tears.
All my broken cupboards masking my fears and pain.
I give them a smile-a laugh-a fake groan
Pretending that it’s okay,that I’m okay.
But I’m not.
I haven’t been for a while now.
But they, you, don’t notice.
My silence speaks a thousand words,
But my screams speak louder.
I scream behind the cupboards.
Are you watching, listening?


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