When Words Follow You

A Poem

Photo by Thirteen .J on Unsplash

“so bitter, that child,”

was what they said about me

behind their garish veined hands

as they spread their poison

among my peers and the adults alike

“no one will ever love her”

was the refrain dripped like honey

when it was far from sweet

to anyone listening closely

and the tears came, drop by drop,

till I fled from the room of vultures

“youth is not always a blessing” —

pitying words, perhaps, as I hid

in a closet filled with coats

and not a soul came to find me

even as I huddled, knees to chest,

waiting for someone to rescue me

“poor child, such a shame,”

the words followed me

nearer than any hunting dogs

and my mask did not slip

even though it hurt to smile

and I was tired of games

“goodbye and good night” —

my respite, my ticket to freedom —

and I let myself out the back door,

anything to get away from each jeer

that had cut through me like a knife