The Critic

The Critic

You can’t see her, but she’s there,

She’s always there.

Once a whisper, like a passing breeze

I could hear her,

but not really.

She adopted me, the parenting I craved.

She wrapped her arms around me,

It was warm,

It was…

tight,

She promised safety, she promised control.

She taught me how to survive.

And I did.

She liked me to float on the surface,

never getting too deep, or I would drown,

she said.

Don’t do that, do this.

Don’t feel that, feel that later.

She taught me to be quiet, blend in,

then invisible.

She said we were superheroes.

I didn’t need anyone,

couldn’t count on anyone,

but her.

The sun was setting, getting cool,

shadows where light once touched.

As she grew,

I grew,

smaller.

She changed,

So, I changed.

She asked for more of me,

I gave more.

She kept growing,

I kept shrinking.

She got louder,

And meaner.

Was I her?

Was she me?

you aren’t enough,

smart enough,

skinny enough,

interesting enough,

worth enough.

ENOUGH!

Fear is not safety,

Detachment is not safety,

Perfection is not safety,

You can still drown in shallow waters.

Krystle Humphreys March 2024