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Pointing the finger

 

Pointing the finger

 

“You’re watching me” you vented

I suppose I was

I guess I was concerned that you seemed stressed about something 

& I was waiting for when you’d finally spill the beans

Rather than being prickly

It gets me, it hurts me

The way people point the finger outwards

Rather than being honest about their feelings

& I’m the one who ends up looking like the malaka

For being mentally ill

For being straight up

For trying to heal

Anyway I just wanna hide for a while

People are too hard

Trying all the time to keep up appearances

I’m glad I had my mother

Regardless of the violence at home

I was encouraged to speak

& not just sweep it under the carpet & push on

Like people do

Their shadows betraying them

Hurting others

Rather than just owning their emotions

My mother was a healer

She healed my father's raging fury

By being fearless

She healed me with active listening

I've never met another in my life

Who owned up to their moods

Who allowed themselves to be vulnerable

Instead of weaponizing 'normal'

 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

 

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