Sticks and Stones

sticksandstones

Sticks and stones may break my bones

But your actions hurt me more.
Your sticks were words you brandished

The light inside was done for.

 

Your stones were all the burdens

Put on us through pain inside.

 

My wounds are already mending

But the scars will never hide.

 

A childish story of spite

Spun by your pride and ego.

 

Why it happened I can forgive,

But I’ll never let cruel go.

 

A lie upon lie, over again

To make me question the real.

 

Now its over, dead and gone

I can finally heal.

 

 

 

The Owl and the Pussy Cat (re-imagined)

 

I
The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, but never had money,
Wrapped up in his old black coat.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
‘O lovely girl! Who never knew love,
What a beautiful girl you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful girl you are!’

 

II
Puss said to the Owl, ‘You promise me true?
How charmingly sweet you sing!
We’ll run away! If you promise me this:
As my heart is a fierce fragile thing?’
They sailed away, for six years and a day,
To the house where the forest grew thick.
And there in a wood their haven stood.
They lit a fire and watched the flames flick,
Flames flick,
Flames flick,
They watched the flames flick.

 

III
‘Dear Cat, are you willing to sell me your trust?’
My trust?’ said the Puss, ‘I will.’
So he took it away, lived for the day
By the house that stood on the hill.
They dined on things grown, from what they had sown,
Which they ate with a borrowed spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the land,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

 

 

Do you know what’s really tough?

Only believing that you are deserving of bullying.

Being showered by love is the one and only time you’ve feel it,

Because it’s the one and only time you have,

And now your chance has gone.

 

You think you know that no one will want you.

It’s easy when your hearts been stamped on again and again.

You will continue to be lied to, over and over,

Because you are so small it doesn’t matter.

 

You’ll always tread on eggshells,

Because your being is wrong for this world.

The guilt you carry never lightens,

And they will always know exactly which button to press.

 

It’s an addiction that goes round in a loop,

Empty images and sad songs.

Now they tell these lies to another,

And they’re welcome to them, enjoy the ride.

 

Right now I’m being me, I think,

Being good enough, being loved in the right way,

Breaking the cycle and fixing what was broken,

That bit that was broken before they met the Narcissist.

 

They can’t hurt you more than you hurt yourself,

If there is nothing left but love in it purest.

Dear Narcissist do you know what’s really tough?

Me.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/john-w-howell/2013/05/a-narcissists-love-letter/

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