They don’t understand me. They don’t understand how I feel or how I want to express myself. They are self-righteous and think the world of themselves. They leave me feeling trapped in time, making me feel smaller and smaller every second. They’ll never agree to my point of view. They just don’t understand.
They want to feel full of pride. They want to be right. They don’t want to lose. They form a pack against me, aiming for my head, waiting until I surrender. They yell insults at me and raise their voices above mine – regarding my every move as a fault. They know my weaknesses too, and use them like knives, stabbing me in the back when I fall down.
I want to cry a river of emotions, yet I can’t show them weakness. From experience, I know that weakness only results in even more hurtful remarks. I attack back – a natural instinct of mine. My voice is so weak, compared to theirs, which reminds me of a lion’s roar.
I now feel lost. They now feel powerful. They know that they win every time, so they continue to rip me into shreds. They know that I’ll eventually fall onto my knees and drown in tears. They know that I’ll hit rock bottom, in the ocean down below.
They know I’ll swim back to them, as I’ll have no where else to go.
Until the cycle begins again.
And I know it will.
Because it always does.
They ask me why I don’t trust them sometimes. Why I rely on others. I tell them that others understand me and don’t treat me like a deer waiting to become a lion’s dinner.