The Same Cloth

Perhaps it was my silence,
that I avoid potential
in the stillness of me
that infuriated uou.
I hold my shoulders
as I always do,
some compliment me
on a straight back
I will not stoop,
I learnt that in childhood,
I'm not about to stop now.

I will not speak, I will
infuriate in keeping
me to me
and your anger
will not touch me
anymore than it did
when I was twelve
and you held my throat ~

Ah, but I forget
you are just the same
just cut
from a different cloth,
my fault
I mistook you there
for someone who cared.

Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2014-06-29 at 19:12

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This poem is filled with pain and strength. It's beautiful beyond words.

As always Elle, beautifully written, I'm hoping it's your muse talking, but I suspect it isn't somehow in the honesty of this write. If that is true I honour your difference.