View from another’s shoes

Blowhard

I was young
Lively curious
Loving the outdoors
Because it nurtured me

I was young
Fragile brittle
Hating classes and books
Because they humiliated me

As more was expected
My Self became squashed
Tumbling ever deeper
Into “idiot” label abyss

Cell-defense, self-defense
I’ll bully, I’ll badger, I’ll blow hard
So you won’t know
So I can forget

When you strike back
It’s too harsh
I crumple, I’m crushed
I am laid open

I am a pile of tears and whimpers
In private
Alone
Convinced I’m not good enough

I’ll just be louder, meaner
I can scare it away
I’ll just deaden my senses
I can escape it

But it always survives
The hatred of me by me
It aches, it burns, it’s excruciating
I endure the life sentence
Of being in my own company

~Barbara Miller