Eyes of judgement

I sense your eyes of judgement
bearing down on me.
I know you can’t understand it,
so naturally it’s hard for you to find empathy.

You haven’t been where I am
which makes me difficult to understand.
But rather than disappointed incomprehension,
I wish you’d reach out your hand.

But instead, you have unrealistic expectations.
One’s that I can never hope to meet.
As the chasm widens between us,
I battle a growing sense of defeat.

Two women world’s apart
at opposite ends of the spectrum.
Your ascent has brought you joy
whilst I’ve been sucked under by depression.

Unaware that it is the ‘black dog’
who has become the guardian of my cage’s key.
I pretend, trying to act ‘normal’
and not at my selfish gaoler’s mercy.

Alienated from those I love,
trapped in a cycle of misery,
shackled by my own self-loathing,
it’s from within these walls that I see.

I see you, seemingly proud and confident,
embracing the newest chapter of your life.
The Spring to my endless Winter,
flourishing, fertile, successful in your role as wife.

You are a celebration of womanhood,
a producer of grandparent’s heirs.
You’ve created and you’ve given light.
God has answered your secret prayers.

You are the success and I, the failure,
the mutant female, ashamed of whom I’ve become.
My body a barren betrayer,
unlike yours that has produced a golden son.

Yes, I sense your eyes of judgement
questioning my behaviour and response.
But I can’t do much about it.
My self-esteem, my inner strength are all but gone.

This atmosphere of expectation
is a heavy burden, I can’t fulfil.
I dread the knowledge that I will disappoint you
despite asserting great courage and strength of will.

I suppress my urge to shriek,
to grimace with grief and cry.
My fight or flight would like to run for it
without even pausing to explain why.

As best I can, I cover up this battle.
I remain suffocating slowly in this room.
I hide my physical and emotional shakes
and try not to sit here like a harbinger of doom.

I am sorry. I’m aware I may hurt you.
We co-exist in a growing cloud of tension.
I can see in your eyes of judgement
your invisible, yet tangible incomprehension.

 

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One thought on “Eyes of judgement

  1. A deeply sad poem. It really moved me. You are really brave and brilliant (not to mention a talented poet). And I mean brilliant in the true sense, in that you bring such a shining light to all that you do and those that you meet. I do hope you know that. Emma XX

    Emma Burgess thepigeonbureau.com +44 7766 223071 +44 1722 503102 @LaPigeonista

    >

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