You asked me what my name was.
I told you it was Jasmine S.
Then you asked me what the S stood for, and I couldn't think of what to say.
I could have very well told you that the S stood for Sampson because that's my last name.
But to me the S doesn't just stand for my name.
It stands for so many other things that people don't know about.
The S stands for solid.
The solid composure I keep in front of others even though on the inside, all I want to do is cry.
I keep my feelings of despair locked away deep beneath a black abyss I call pride.
These feelings are to never be heard of by anyone except for the voices in my head telling me that people will think I'm weak for being emotional.
And being weak is never an option for me because the weak get devoured.
So just like a crab, I put myself in a shell.
My hard exterior being my only protection from this world.
And if I let emotions crack me open, I'll end up on the plate of society being picked at by the fingers of criticism.
The S stands for strength.
The strength it takes for me to KEEP that solid composure.
The strength it takes for me to not break down and beg God to end my life right now even though dying sounds like bliss at the moment.
My life has been nothing but HELL.
Yet some how my pride just won't let me show it.
I'd rather take a knife and cut a smile across my cheeks than let people see me frown.
I'd rather sew my eyelids shut than let tears fall from them.
The S stands for scars.
Not the scars on my body, but the ones on my soul.
The scars on my state of mind.
It may not be evident, but over the years, I have been screwed over so many times that it left gashes in my way of thinking.
Attributes like caring and being nice oozing out of these cuts like blood.
My friends would try and heal these wounds with scabs of "letting it out" trying to save me from completely changing.
But what they couldn't see was that scabs couldn't heal these deep of cuts.
There was nothing anyone could do; I was becoming another person.
I lost pints of loving, red blood, that would only be replaced by venomous, black blood.
And just like all wounds, they scarred over.
Trapping that venomous blood inside me, welcoming my new sense of hatred.
The S stands for sacrificed.
I sacrificed my happiness and innocence for an image.
Now majority of my life has been spent being angry.
Angry that I CAN'T ENJOY ANYTHING ANYMORE!
Because all I can think about is the bad in my life and how much I just want to get away.
I question why I sacrificed so much just to appear a certain way.
Why did something so meaningless matter so much to me?
The S stands for solitude.
Solitude is the only place I get to witness release.
When I'm by myself, out of sight of everyone, I break open my shell.
I stitch my cheeks back up to finally show my frown.
I undo the sewing on my eyelids and let the tears that have been welling up inside gush out like little, salty waterfalls.
Then I rest my head in my palms, and I sob as hard as I can.
It feels so good to cry!
Then when I have to go back in front of people, I pull out another shell from my closet of insecurities and throw it on.
I take a blade to my cheeks and needle to my eyes once again
Telling myself, "I'm ok".
The S stands for self-destruction.
The only ending insight for me.
I will keep up this charade, and I will keep on hiding.
And after a while, I'm just going to collapse from trying to hold it all in.
I'll finally fall to the floor, crack my shell open, and die.
Leaving my depressed remains to show the world how I really was.
The S stands for sorry.
I'm sorry that I couldn't do it...
I'm sorry I let S stand for so much in my life.
And I'm sorry everything it stood for was bad.
But if I told you that S stood for any of that, it wouldn't be entirely true.
Yes I do feel that way sometimes, but I find more comfort in showing my emotions than hiding them.
So I'll finally stand up against my pride and not disguise my true feelings.
I'll say FUCK what anyone thinks and show the world that I am who I am, and there's no pretending I'm not.
I'll be content with having the solid strength to find beauty in my scars and sacrificing my depressing solitude to save myself from self-destruction.
And you can guarantee, I won't be sorry for it.
So when you ask me what the S stands for, I'll just say Sampson.