Cassandra3719
08-04-2013, 06:22 PM
I close my eyes for a second,
Maybe more.
Allowing the tears to run free.
Black mascara trickles down my face,
Leaving only sadness in it’s place.
I wonder, what did I do wrong?
Why did I not belong?
Was I too short, too nice, too fat?
Was my face too long, too round, too flat?
Envy, hatred, cruelness and more,
Came knocking daily at my door.
To laugh, to sneer, to giggle, to hide,
To throw security and love aside.
But today, no more would go on.
No more would I listen to cries of ‘moron.’
Or ‘ugly’, ‘fat’ or ‘nerd.’
No more ‘idiot’ would be heard.
These ears had heard enough,
My heart was no longer tough.
The blade sat in my hand, so small,
Yet capable to end my world.
A single slice, so easy, so quick,
All I would feel would be a pinprick.
Then this mimic of life would disappear,
And finally, there would be nothing left to hear.
I took a breath, maybe more,
Steadying myself on the wooden door.
This must be done, I told myself,
Bracing for the end of this hell.
But treachery came from whithin,
Pleading for me not to end.
It told me, there must be more.
Than fighting this never ending war.
You are stronger than they could ever hope,
Your heart able to cope.
And what about you Mum and friends?
Your Dad, your sister and little Ben?
When they find you, who will they blame,
When they see how bad it became?
The mirror that’s tortured you for all this time,
Will become their own obstacle to climb.
The last words the voice said,
Were ‘Don’t give up now’
I stopped the blade on it’s movement down,
Wanting so bad to just go ahead,
But my hand refused to let the blade imbed.
I’d been bullied, teased and beaten,
Taunted,mocked, excluded and rejected.
Looked at myself and hurt bad,
Looked away, and been sad.
But I had risen, beaten all the words,
Beaten the kids, and all the hurt.
The blade clattered as it fell to the ground,
My life was worth so much more than that.
I turned and left the room of fear,
Leaving behind all of the tears.
With a sniff and a wipe, I carried on,
Ready to fight once more.
Maybe more.
Allowing the tears to run free.
Black mascara trickles down my face,
Leaving only sadness in it’s place.
I wonder, what did I do wrong?
Why did I not belong?
Was I too short, too nice, too fat?
Was my face too long, too round, too flat?
Envy, hatred, cruelness and more,
Came knocking daily at my door.
To laugh, to sneer, to giggle, to hide,
To throw security and love aside.
But today, no more would go on.
No more would I listen to cries of ‘moron.’
Or ‘ugly’, ‘fat’ or ‘nerd.’
No more ‘idiot’ would be heard.
These ears had heard enough,
My heart was no longer tough.
The blade sat in my hand, so small,
Yet capable to end my world.
A single slice, so easy, so quick,
All I would feel would be a pinprick.
Then this mimic of life would disappear,
And finally, there would be nothing left to hear.
I took a breath, maybe more,
Steadying myself on the wooden door.
This must be done, I told myself,
Bracing for the end of this hell.
But treachery came from whithin,
Pleading for me not to end.
It told me, there must be more.
Than fighting this never ending war.
You are stronger than they could ever hope,
Your heart able to cope.
And what about you Mum and friends?
Your Dad, your sister and little Ben?
When they find you, who will they blame,
When they see how bad it became?
The mirror that’s tortured you for all this time,
Will become their own obstacle to climb.
The last words the voice said,
Were ‘Don’t give up now’
I stopped the blade on it’s movement down,
Wanting so bad to just go ahead,
But my hand refused to let the blade imbed.
I’d been bullied, teased and beaten,
Taunted,mocked, excluded and rejected.
Looked at myself and hurt bad,
Looked away, and been sad.
But I had risen, beaten all the words,
Beaten the kids, and all the hurt.
The blade clattered as it fell to the ground,
My life was worth so much more than that.
I turned and left the room of fear,
Leaving behind all of the tears.
With a sniff and a wipe, I carried on,
Ready to fight once more.