messyspoempage

Little girl please let me be free. I am sorry that happened to you,
I wish it could have been me. You can't keep destroying my life.
All your pain has my heart feeling like it was stabbed with a knife.
Why can't you accept all of the pain that has been done?
In the end it will not be you who has won.
What is it you are trying to prove?
It's up to you to make the next move.
You can't keep controling my life;
bringing me down.
I hate that see me wearing this frown.
How dare you think you could be in charge.
I can't take anymore, your pain is to large.
It is my turn to change our life so that it will feel right.
But how can I when you still plague me day and night.
You are not being very fair.
I know you have given up;
your numb;
you just dont care.
If you don't care than you are no better than they are.
I've developed a drive, and I will go far.
So my friend; quit feeling sorry for us.
You're getting me angry and I'm starting to cuss.
You think this is fun?
I admit you have been on a roll.
It's over now.
I am the one who is in control.

Written By Jessica Bevington - 2001

Even though things can be so rough.
Even though my heart can seem so tough.
Even though a lot of time I seem so blue.
That doesn't mean that I don't love you.
Even though the days can seem so hard.
Even though it's hard for me to let down my guard.
You may think that things should be easy to do.
That doesn't mean I don't love you.
Even though your work day seems so long.
Even though you say I don't love you; I know your wrong.
You may not yet have a clue.
That doesn't mean I don't love you.
Even though my issues don't allow you to get your way.
You need to beleive that I am here to stay.
You also have your bad days too.
That doesn't mean I don't love you.
I know sometimes you wonder if we are going to last.
You need to know that our love won't end because of our past.
My love doesn't sometimes seem to be so true.
That still doesn't mean I don't love you.

For Kitten
Written By Jessica Bevington - 2001

Why can't I just forget my worst fear is something I have just met.
I fear the years of undying pain. Pain that is so great It has made me insane.
Why can't I just get over my shit? All I do is rage and throw angry fits.
Why can't you just admit what you have done? All of this pain you ignored because
you wanted to get spun. High, at my exspense. I hope it was a lot of fun.
I hope you learn to live with all your unconscious guilt.
Watching me pull away with hatred from a wall that I have built.
I hope that one day when you need me; I will not be there, and all of my pain,
you will finally be able to see. One day I will be what you say I can't,
my only wish I know he will grant. Now you can rest in the bed that you've made.
I bet this makes you wish you had never gone out and played. It's funny how you call yourself parents;
my name for you is:
Abusive Tyrants.

Written by Jessica Bevington

I Do Love You

Little Girl Let Me Be Free

What is it that I am not seeing?
Why do I feel like a lifeless being?
What did you do to me?
Why can't I just be happy and free?
What is all this unknowing pain?
Why do I use the Lord's name in vain?
What gives you the right to be happy?
What gave you the right to make my life so crappy?
What are you just proud of yourself?
Why should you enjoy life with all of it's wealth?
What did I ever do to you?
That made you beat me black and blue?
What gave you the right to abuse me?
Why couldn't anyone just open their eyes to see.
Damage and pain that you were causing me.
Tell me when, Tell me how, how do you feel now?
What you should be feeling is something you don't.
I want you to feel what I feel, but I know that
you won't. What, did you think I would sit back
and watch my life wilt?
While you live with your new family without any guilt.
Maybe your the one who needs help, and not me.
I hope that it's you who will someday see,
that life without you is alright with me.
When Amanda was born your daughters were Two
Because of what you've done, your daughters are One
Do you like who you are? Do you feel like you've won?
When you come down from your pedistool.
It's then you will realize,
your daughters are None.

Written By Jessica Bevington

Who Am I?

Who am I is a question I ask myself everyday.
Only it seems that I dont know what to say.
I though that I knew.
It turns out I didn't even have a clue.
Why are we here?
Why aren't things always the way that they appear?
Why don't we get to choose our parents?
Some get ones that are mean and act like tyrants.
Some parents abuse their child.
Even though it's them who teach us not to be wild.
It's hard growing up with a schitzophrenic mom.
One minute she is nice the next she is a walking time bomb.
All that is left is the mental pain.
Everyone tells me there is no one to blame, and nothing to gain.
So I ask myself, "Who Am I"?
Someone who took all their beatings, and now questions why.
What does HE have in store for us.
No one knows and that is my biggest distrust.
How am I supposed to know who I am,
when I was never given the chance to give a damn.
Until now.

Written By Jessica Bevington - 2001

When the hurt is too much and the burdens too wide, It’s then when I turn to the addict inside. I always can count on the addict inside, to keep me from coping as hard as I’ve tried. When all else has failed from this pain I must hide, It’s then when I turn to the addict inside. Soon I won’t feel all the pain that I know, I turn to the addict and further I go. The further I go the more I can’t see, the things that the addict is doing to me. Lying to me about all my pain, making me feel I have nothing to gain. The deeper I go the more pain I feel, not even sure of what’s false and what’s real. Not really knowing whom to confide, it’s then when I turn to the addict inside. Deeper I go again and again, still feeling the feelings of pain without end. For that moment I turn to the addict inside, the pain becomes numb because I’m getting high. Higher and higher and still deeper I go, hiding this sickness so no one will know. “Getting high is o.k.” I will say in my mind. It’s then when I’ve turned to the addict inside. Isolating myself hidden deep within lies, causing destruction to cut all my ties. Ties that keep me aware of what’s real, ties that might help me for fear I might heal. To heal I would face all the pain that I feel, and soon I would know without doubt what is real. To admit to myself I am solely to blame, hating my parents when I’m just the same. This path of destruction that caused me such pain, I’m walking it fearful and hiding in shame. Being like them is what I despise; still I keep walking and living this lie. Walking and walking still deeper I go, afraid to admit that it’s starting to show. The more that it shows the deeper I hide, It’s then when I’ve turned to the addict inside. I’ve done it again now I’m feeling such shame; I search for a reason or someone to blame. Denying the blame means still living this lie, walking this path and each day I still cry. “I’m not like them,” I yell and I scream, “I can’t be like them” this must be a dream. They didn’t love me I hate them you see. I’m looking at them and now I’m seeing me. I dropped to my knees I cry and I pray, that I’ll never treat my child this way. “I’m not like them, my child has love”, I scream and I yell at the heavens above. Why do I do it? I don’t understand. I’m walking their path with my child in hand. Tears keep on falling, I’m hurting inside, It’s then when I turn to the addict inside.

Written By A Friend