I wonder, maybe if you had said yes,

I’d be happier.

Those three letters could’ve changed my life – for the best.

If you had said yes,

I wouldn’t have to meet the fierce, inquisitive stares

from eyes that believed what someone else said,

instead of believing for themselves that I could be

kind, that I am absolutely, fully capable

without their gazes ripping me apart, tearing

me to shreds, reducing me to nothing but careless and useless

whispers that the air now holds.

The air tastes pungent, my lungs filling in with lies,

with contortions of who I am, words that have morphed

me into the monster I never was and I never will be.

But the air still hangs the happiness I could’ve had, that I never

had the chance to feel, to experience.

I instead feigned that happiness behind curtains of regret,

behind 6 foot walls of longing, and behind a shattered mirror that once

held the image of a happy girl.

(Just a poem to my dad who should’ve trusted me enough to let me take my own decisions.)

– A.

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