A place of my own

A girl with no home, that’s who I am.
Constantly moving, never staying still.
I can’t stay still.
I have to take care of them.
I have to be strong for them.
They look up to me.

Or is that just what I tell myself.
Maybe I run because of the fear that they’ll catch up.
Have you ever had the feeling you’ve intentionally forgot something?
Like it was just too much too bare but regardless, it leaks into your every waking hour?

I need so badly to forget.
To be someone else.
To protect the little girl still trapped inside me.
Never good enough,
Never pretty enough,
Never smart enough.
Always used and abused.

The household punching bag.
Turned to stone so when fists came, they broke.
And now I’m all alone.
Untouchable and in agony.

I can’t hurt anymore.
I just want a home.
A bed.
Something, anything that’s truly mine.
A place of my own.

To be left alone and unseen.
I’m tired of being their windup doll.
Always ready and at attention.
Never falling or wavering.

In this place of mine, I will fall and cry.
And think of all the things that could have been but wasn’t.
All the things that were and will be.
I’ll stop and only think of myself.
Repair myself.
Be Myself.
Oh when will I ever see this place?
A simple place of my own.