WORDS THAT WOUND

Do you know how words can burn?

How they carve deep paths that never turn?

Even on calm days, they echo loud

But on the dark days, they tear me down.

Like knives in places no one sees,

your voice becomes the worst of me.

You act like every storm is mine

even your pain, I’m blamed in time.

Your problems land at my front door,

and if I don’t fix them, you roar.

If I speak, you say I nag or lie,

If I stay silent, you roll your eyes.

I’m not allowed to push back or feel

I just absorb what you think is real.

“Why so weak?”your daily line.

“You’re pretending,” as if that’s fine.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, stop the show,”

Like my pain’s something you get to outgrow.

These words you say like they’re routine,

they hit like knives, sharp, unseen.

And in front of others, you wear a grin,

while mocking me for what’s within.

You laugh, you joke, like I’m a play

while pieces of me fade away.

You list my duties, loud and clear,

but yours go missing year to year.

And worst of all, in front of mine,

you cross a line I can’t define.

You look at them,

then point at me,

and say it so carelessly:

“Don’t be like your mom, she’s fake and weak,

a liar with a practiced streak.”

Their eyes go quiet. My heart just breaks.

That’s the kind of scar no time can take.

I don’t need praise, or sympathy,

just words that don’t cut into me.

Not much to ask, just to be true,

To treat me like I’m human too.