Untitled - 3/16/97 (At 14)

Bitterness
an infected confection
deriving
from lack of affection
anger and pity
self-reflected
lonesome desire
long neglected
I took some time
to resurrect
the plants that
died of pure neglect
You just watched,
standing erect
recalling words
you now regret
But thoughts and words
won't soon connect
We'll forfeit all
that we protect
You never gave me much
respect
And now it's my turn
to collect

I think the line "plants that died of pure neglect" is interesting because it made me think how you don't have to do something horrible to a living thing to kill it. You can kill something by not tending to it. I wonder if that's how I felt about my feelings and self-worth, etc. Sometimes the harm my parents did to me wasn't physical or antagonistic, but the pure isolation and sense of abandonment alone were killers.

At the end of the poem, the tone turns vengeful. I carried a deep sense of victimhood with me and I fantasized about getting revenge and proving everyone wrong. I even sometimes fantasized about getting kidnapped or hit by a car so that my family would regret the way they had treated me and show me some love and attention. I came to see by example that the way to get people to show their love for you was through having a crisis. I wanted to have one of my own so that everyone would revolve around me for once. When I really did have a crisis with my father last spring, I felt uncomfortable with all the love and attention, because it didn't feel right being at the receiving end of it all. I didn't want people to worry about me. I felt like I was putting people out and monopolizing conversations when my friends called to check on me. Hopefully, this is something I'll be able to accept from people as I recover.