The Black Sheep (Poem)

I’ve become the version of me you see
Swept under the rug like a dark secret
Nothing that I can conceive
I’ve become nothing in your mind but a rag doll
To be pushed around and use whenever
Chosen to be blamed for the mistakes you started
Made to be a statue in your game of lonely hearts

Picked me up whenever you were bored
Covered up the existence of me
Until you were ready to bash into my head
The words that can’t be ignored
Sorrow follows, after every attack
Subjected to ridicule
I’ve become fragile as a frightened little kid
Hiding under covers of misused hope
I’ve been hidden, so, no one knows my true identity

Struggling restlessly, through your maze
I’ve learned to drown out the noise
Indulge in useless trends
Controlled by you, makes me feel hollow
The texture of these rooms, caged in like an animal
Unoccupied, eaten up my insides
I forgot how to live
My tears became like a thunderstorm
Washed out, broken record
Closed minds are contagious
Communication is nonexistent

© Joanne Guillard

This poem is from my book Poetry is My Therapy, follow me on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.

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