December Poem by Joan Johnson

Looking into this shattered mirror
My screaming,
No one can hear,
it always makes me remember the crimson lines that were streaming

On the outside
I look so peaceful, so calm
You wouldn't believe how many tears I've cried
I think Death is holding me in the center of his palm

I feel that if I were to be heard, to be spoken to,
I would bring them down with me
You don't undersand, do you?
Maybe one day you'll see...

I can't be perfect, although every one asks me to be
It kills me slowly when you laugh at me
Although you don't see
That your really killing me

Disturbing images of that fateful night
Haunts my every dream
That night I almost took my life
Always comes back to me it seems

When I try to be myself
I always screw up in one way or another
The feeling of you could possibaly be going to hell
Is truly like no other

All though I fall
But get back up on my feet
Another brick wall
Is all I can seem to meet

So when you laugh next time
Think of what you are doing to me
How you are damaging my mind
And maybe now you see......