This Room is Not for Rent

the Greek chorus
has declared me
damaged beyond repair
incapable of
a “normal” life
“better off dead”
say the well-meaning citizens
than “broken”
preferring the image
of the golden haired
innocent child angel
comforted by a merciful God
to a living angry woman
who refuses to be silent
I try not to let
these voices
rent space
in my head
they are destructive tenants
who forfeit their security deposit
scrawl graffiti
in red lipstick on my walls
I try not
to buy into the vitriol
when they imply
that my life has no meaning
that I am an abomination
a red, raw, bleeding thing
they deem too unseemly
to look upon
unfit for polite society
“Fuck You!”
I want to shout
at the top of my lungs
hands covering my ears
some days
it is hard to find
the armor of my rage
I am just so
god damned tired
of having to prove
that I am worthy
of continued existence
that I deserve to walk
this earth
breathe this oxygen
as if
I am the one
who must continue
to do penance
for other’s sins

© 2017 Revised 2020 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved

3 thoughts on “This Room is Not for Rent

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