Initiative to strive ahead,
To be myself, to find my stead,
Was so completely frowned upon,
I never knew from right or wrong.
Constant shouting and control,
What chance was there to find my whole,
You chose my words, you chose my deeds,
You guilt me into masking needs.
With two unstable parent roles,
No wonder life was full of holes,
I grew alone, I raised myself,
Initiative left on the shelf.
And guilt was thrown into my face,
Whenever narcissistic trace,
Was lead before an obtuse path,
Where carnage was the aftermath.
I couldn’t choose, I couldn’t breathe,
Compliance was my one reprieve,
From falling in the darkest hell,
A place I sadly knew too well.
Initiative to strive ahead,
It never crossed my mind, instead,
I cowered in a frightful home,
Where guilt became my catacomb.
© The Complicated Bunny – 28 Jan 2022
This poem is the third in a series of poems based around Erik Erikson’s Stages of Psychosocial Development which is something my psychologist and I are currently exploring.
The Complicated Bunny 