To Be Impervious

You think I am impervious,
I've practiced frowns and dullen eyes,
I dare not move,
I do not allow myself to speak, and silently
retain my thoughts on the peaks of my feet.
Your voice thundered and intently I listened
to unravelings of your rampage and your disapproval.
I am not that impervious nor ignorant,
I stay hung up on your words
while I'm lost in my many thoughts,
and often times I tune out of your anger
to project whatever pride.

I feel the weight of all your expectations
that time again I fail to meet,
the number of times I said I'd change
that only lasted but a few days.
No, I am not that impervious,
if you could see, guilt shrivels and dangles inside---
wraths my soul and shuns my eyes,
and though I never seem to give in
I know much better than this.
But I fall victim to my own needs
and it's a vicious cycle for control,
yet my free will always prevails.