my soul seeps
into the ground,
searching
for protection
and shelter
from the innundation
of insults
raining down upon me
from your
lips
you make me believe
that i'm not good enough
to be your daughter. . .
not smart enough
to be your kin. . .
your bitter words
bite like battery acid
upon bare flesh,
corroding my self-image
until all that remains
is an empty mold
of a once-beautiful
girl
now the words cease,
but the tears flow freely
as silent whispers
from my
soul
they beg for an
open-minded
audience
and find
only
you
