caitlinjeanine

 Not every pine tree grows To be the tallest. They used to tell me That every day, As if the blow or the Insult would knock Me back into oblivion. And, unfortunately, it did. But there was always A flicker of  hope Inside me. A flicker of  desire, Of  determination, And what's more --             Strength. For years I allowed Their branches to graze Over the top of my scalp. For years I allowed Their roots to invade Every square inch Of my existence. And for years I gave In to the words they spoke: You'll never be good enough. You're a low life, And that's all you'll Ever amount to. You are nothing. You neve