Image of a Perfect Student

Thu, 10/03/2013 - 21:25 -- mguzman

You ask why, but I cant give the real answer

The story cant be heard

No its not correct to say the things that happened

Get personal, 

NEVER! Its inappropriate..


But what if my story defines me

What if my story reflects how I think

What if my story is something I carry with me every day

Forced to stay silent

Becuase you might be uncomfortable


I cant say that Ive been sexually abused

Or that Ive been called a whore

No, I shouldnt mention my mother died

And definitely not that my grandma died too

You cant know the weight I feel everyday


No one must know how worthless I feel

That I feel unworthy to be in a Honor Program

Never! Its Blasphemy to say what happened

Its horrible to say that I made blood leave my veins,

Or that Im far to familiar with the Mental Hospital


No, they must all think Im pretty

I must be polite and smile

Its priority to make them comfortable

They must feel I belong

That Depression does not fight with my sanity


They cant know the struggle with sleep

Or the scars on my arm

It must never been spoken of the flashbacks or sounds heard

The faces seen, and sins made


Words cant be spoken of those Memories

I cant say I was touched or lefted

No I have to work

I need to make them think that I can do something 


Everyone has to think I am OK!

They must believe that I dont take medication

They must think that I am normal

I'm a freak if I tell them

I dont belong in their world if they ever know

I must be: The Perfect Student



Sometimes I just wish I could shout that Im hurting so much.  Sometimes I just wish I could speak.  But I know there are things that can be said.  I just now I must be, their perfect student and simply smile with black tears in my heart.


I didnt realize how far I carried my pain with me in my everyday life...

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