The Christmas lights on my tree
twinkle, unnecessarily.
Its all I have kept of tradition
You never put me right
Maybe you tried
Maybe you loved me
But that’s not enough
Your love can’t cover up your abuse
I’m not a little child. But I’m still vulnerable
I admit it. I’m at accepting
I can’t live for you
I’m not sorry.
You wanted me to carry you
Like a pointless backpack of rocks
like a bucket of shit
sloshing on top of my head
I was your surefooted mule
I took pride in how much I could carry
For you
I’ve put it down
The bible, the apologizing, the pride, shame,
And now – the fear and bucket of hate.
I’ve given up being the ass
Its no longer my surprise
I’m not passing it on or boxing it up
Or hiding it in the basement
Wrapped tight for later
You fucked up
You
fucked
up
you carry it
Annieepoetry 