I run down the sidewalk, again today skipping school.. Again while i'm torn inside..
I don't get it, the things they call me.. Why.. What have I ever done to them?!
"Look here comes the Slut"
I never sleept with anybody..
"You are so Fat"
I starve myself..
"Why are you always wearing long swethers it's summer Idiot"
What else should I hide my scars behind?..
"You are a Waste of space"
I know, my dad told me this morning..
"Go Kill yourself"
Trust me, i'm trying..
I shake my head, while the tears, start run down my cheeks. As I walk I remember my talk with the headmaster..
"We are trying to help you.." Here we go again.. "We understand you.." Oh really?
You know what it feels like getting bullied? You know what if feels like when people start rumors about you?.. You know what if feels like coming home broken, just to be totallt ignored by your parents. And if they for once notice you, you just get punished..? You know what it feels like to draw a drawing on your arms with a blade? You know how the pain feels when you put the razor on your skin and cut? You know what it feels like screaming, screaming for help, but nobody hears?
NO YOU DON'T SO DON'T YOU DARE TO SAY YOU UNDERSTAND ME! Because you have everything, family, love, friends and happiness.. And I have nothing.. NOTHING!
But did I say those things to him? No.. I kept being cold, being broken, being me. So I answerd fast.. Cold.. Simple..
And thats the biggest lie I ever told, but I could not say the truth.. I can't tell what I am going through everyday of my life.. I can't tell them, knowing it will be worst for myself..
Don't get me wrong, once I wanted help.. But did they listen? No.. Did they care? No..
They always told me everyhing is going to be okay, but funny enough, nobody calls them liars..
They always told me that childrenh in ike Africa has a harder life than me.. And that I should not even dare to say I have a bad life.. Because their life is harder..
And I know, and i feel sorry for those kids.. But that does not mean that other people can't be living hell.. That does not mean that other peolpe can't have problems..
They only started to care, the day I came to school with scars.. With a red hand on my cheek because my own father hit me!
But when they started to care, I stopped..
I sigh as I open the door to my house, I try to be as quiet as I can.. Not wanting to bring any attention..
I finally make it to my room, and the first thing I do is grabbing 3 important things..
And the razor blade..
I sigh and sit down against my wall...
Today is a totally ordianry day.,
After cutting 3 new cuts in my wrist. I grab my guitar while I sing for myself.,
"One day they will regert what they said..
What they did..
And realize, that they need to live with the shame for the rest of their lives,.
Because they can't make it up..
Once i'm gone for real.."
I sing to myself, while staring out if the window and playing on my best friend... My guitar..