ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
My daughter hates me
and it kills me to know this
she denies being raised by me
denies being mine
as soon as I open my eyes to the world
every day
as soon as I wake
I am aware of this knowledge
and it eats at me
it kills me inside
My daughter has threatened to kill me
several times
because she's disgusted
with who I am
she's hit me and kicked me and belittled me
and made me feel small
inside
and I don't know why
because I won't understand
what I'm doing wrong
My daughter is a beautiful girl
talented - strong - smart
in every way
she is all that her mother is not
the English language is merely a tool for her craft
she is an intellectual
reads tons of books by the day
and ingests knowledge
every way
she can
because she's so convinced
that she can always learn something
and I believe it as well
My daughter is a poet
she can make others feel her joy
and bring tears to people's eyes
she can turn sorrow into hope
and bring inspiration
into her peers hearts
she hones her skills
every second of every day
because
she dreams of eventually
becoming a writer
I know that she can
My daughter is an artist
she uses chalk
to express her emotions
and uses colors
to act as words
she can tell a story through images and
textures
and different layers
that she draws
she uses charcoal to illustrate
the raw pain
she holds in her heart
My daughter hurts me
every hour
every minute
every second
that she refuses my gifts
won't take what I throw at her,
talks down to me
when I give up
or when I tell her I want to die
she makes me feel ashamed of myself
because we both know,
I haven't tried
enough with her
and makes me realize
that even though
she suffers from the same illness I do
it won't hold her back
Nothing can
because
my daughter is strong.
and it kills me to know this
she denies being raised by me
denies being mine
as soon as I open my eyes to the world
every day
as soon as I wake
I am aware of this knowledge
and it eats at me
it kills me inside
My daughter has threatened to kill me
several times
because she's disgusted
with who I am
she's hit me and kicked me and belittled me
and made me feel small
inside
and I don't know why
because I won't understand
what I'm doing wrong
My daughter is a beautiful girl
talented - strong - smart
in every way
she is all that her mother is not
the English language is merely a tool for her craft
she is an intellectual
reads tons of books by the day
and ingests knowledge
every way
she can
because she's so convinced
that she can always learn something
and I believe it as well
My daughter is a poet
she can make others feel her joy
and bring tears to people's eyes
she can turn sorrow into hope
and bring inspiration
into her peers hearts
she hones her skills
every second of every day
because
she dreams of eventually
becoming a writer
I know that she can
My daughter is an artist
she uses chalk
to express her emotions
and uses colors
to act as words
she can tell a story through images and
textures
and different layers
that she draws
she uses charcoal to illustrate
the raw pain
she holds in her heart
My daughter hurts me
every hour
every minute
every second
that she refuses my gifts
won't take what I throw at her,
talks down to me
when I give up
or when I tell her I want to die
she makes me feel ashamed of myself
because we both know,
I haven't tried
enough with her
and makes me realize
that even though
she suffers from the same illness I do
it won't hold her back
Nothing can
because
my daughter is strong.
Literature
One for Dad
I was back in the house where I could feel the melancholy
of the lonesome, crowded west.
The same house but all the memories seemed so far away.
The smell of fresh paint hung heavy in the air,
and the walls I had once scratched and dented were bare.
A film of neglect clung to the books he never let me touch,
“Always end up damaged.” he’d say.
Not realising that love changes things,
makes friendships stronger, give things sentiment.
Those worn covers and creased pages,
not a sign of carelessness but a sign of greatest care.
There were the bottles of wisdom placed in the cellar,
full of learning, but paling to the lesso
Literature
For My Father
my eyes red with tears I thought I'd no longer cry,
I see someone feel how I felt when you died,
it feels like forever since you were taken away,
and forever's what I'd give for just one more day
Literature
Father
She must have been
beautiful
sugar sweet
perfect
as you dressed her in innocence.
I'm sure her hair smelled of better times
and her eyes tugged at your conscience
and promised worlds
that made yours seem tragically thin.
And you were ...
weak
Now tell me, (father)
what broke your heart?
To find out you were the perfect liar?
Or to speak that ugly truth
that smashed everything
to blood-drawing shards of memories?
Because I don't need
your second-hand love
anymore.
I know, one day
you will contemplate gravity's fragilty
and fall into the sky
while we lie sleepless through nights gone hollow
with a bullet for the pain
an
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Through my mother's eyes, whom I consider my complete opposite. All of this is true.
I don't know how to react to my mother anymore. It hurt just writing this. I almost cried three times.
#PoetryEvolution
For the challenge: write from the perspective of someone opposite of who you are.
I don't know how to react to my mother anymore. It hurt just writing this. I almost cried three times.
#PoetryEvolution
For the challenge: write from the perspective of someone opposite of who you are.
© 2010 - 2024 LoveDestructive
Comments37
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I already read this before.. but did ur mother really say that or is this just putting urself in her shoes.