Kenny

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Her eyes have witnessed horrors
In the darkest of nights and the brightest of days
If you'd look within them deep enough 
They would give all her secrets away
That glimmer that you see reflecting 
Is a cry for help she tries projecting 
But somehow, even while she's right underneath the spotlight 
She's invisible

They might ask about the scars on her arms
Then label her an outcast, a stain on society 
Like the blood red blood cells that drip through razors sharpened by their ignorant thoughts
They sprew venom in her face
Her family calls her a disgrace
Discriminated for her race
Days upon days

I cry for her
My soul weeps for her past
And a little bit for my own
Cuz even though we are two separate beings
We find that in this world so cold our past makes us sisters. Almost identical.

Her ears have heard voices. 
Their screams like violins being smashed violently by her violaters. If you would just stop to listen to her words, you'd hear the catch in her voice whenever she accepted a compliment while rejecting her confidence.

I don't understand this, how can someone so beautiful not know they're beautiful?

It seems no matter how much she's screaming, the world has her on mute, they don't want to hear about the abuse 
They don't wanna hear about the use
They censor her scars with black bars
And turn blind eyes to her black eyes 
I'm starting to realize, that we don't acknowledge our problems we ignore them

Her tongue has tasted rejection 
She's says it taste like blood, from a slap in the face that reignites tears, from previous years
She tells me its as salty as peanuts 
That makes her break out in hives
Yet somehow she always survives 
So the cycle is destined to continue
And continue it does, cuz no one loves like kenny loves

The pain she endures is staggering, 
Still it saddens me to say it's not one of a kind
There are Kennys all around us, some are wrapped up in our minds
We're all waiting for someone to see through our souls, to read between our lines, to decipher the interpretive dance of our tongues, to breathe more air into our lungs, to recognize our scars for what they are, to tell us to lay down our razors, and lean on them, to turn up our volumes and be our friend. To wipe the venom from our faces and tell us we're loved. To throw away our violins and give us electric guitars. To teach us confidence, and how to accept compliments. To uncensor our scars and open their eyes, to show us something other than self sacrifice.

"We're all waiting, she said, but when will they come?"

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