Living Dead Girl
I know what others think of him,
And I know what I think of him,
I know what they see,
And I know what I see,
Because he's taught me to know better,
To know that what others see him as is a lie,
A lie he made to protect himself,
I am to be good he says, never bad,
NO.
I am not aloud to be bad,
I have learned to be afraid to be bad.
I am not who I once was, he made me this way.
Into what he wanted, into what he needed.
In everyone else's eyes, he is perfect,
Perfect father, with perfect morals,
Though in my eyes, he is anything but.
My used to be shining blue eyes, now filled with hatred,
But no. That's not allowed either,
Now they hold fake love, to make him happy,
To not be bad. But when he isn't looking.
Never. Will my eyes be filled with hatred,
I don't know how to do that anymore,
Infact, any emotion is fake when it comes to down to me showing it,
But if he really isn't looking, nothing will ever be in my eyes,
No more tears, no more pain, just emptiness,
I died on the inside long ago,
Now I just can't wait for the physical death,
I am a walking "Living Dead Girl",
He made me this way, and this is what he wanted,
This is the way that I am supposed to be,
Living. But dead. Fake. But always truthful.
Trapped, and never free.
No Buts.