sticks and stones

Sun, 11/06/2016 - 15:27 -- jlane97

Stop using your words as weapons
Every blow leaves me bruised
Until I am so broken, there is nothing left of me
Yeah, sticks and stones may break your bones
But words, words poison you from the inside out
Until you feel worthless
and powerless and dead inside
and then your mind is a dark place
that nobody can see and 
therefore nobody can understand
and so I will smile, I will smile
and say "I'm fine" and "I'm just tired" 
but thats just it, I am tired
tired of pretending that I'm okay,
pretending that I want to live but really,
honestly I just want to curl up into a ball and die
but how can I tell you that when
I'm terrified of how you'll see me
that you'll see me with pity and 
then you'll leave and thats how it goes
and I wish these demons would vanish
and I could feel normal and then you'd want me
but don't worry, its my fault, it always is
so carry on and believe my smile
that hides the horrid truth

This poem is about: 
Me

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