I've never been the prettiest.
I've never been the nicest at times.
I've been made fun of,
Left out.
Broken.
But some how I pick myself up from all my sorrows.
Trying to forget all those brutal names you've called me.
Trying to make myself okay.
I hide behind make-up.
Fancy clothes.
A new hair due.
You glare at me and say;
Why do you have to be so fake?
I honestly don't know.
I have glasses with frames.
I see the world through glass.
I look up at you and retort in my head;
You think you're so perfect?
You think you're beautiful?
The most prettiest in the school?
Oh, you know you're not going to die alone.
You have all the boys trembling at your feet.
What do I have?
I have people who love me.
I don't have friends that just love me because I have money.
Then I stop.
I think about it.
You sit dumbfounded.
I don't want to be a bully like you.
You've driven me to the edge.
I don't want to do the same for you.
You get up and shake it off.
And once again,
I kill you without saying anything.
I go home and I get yelled at at times.
I get yelled at by my brothers.
Called a sIut
and all I do is go to my room.
I don't have a witty come back.
I get called a bxtch every day,
and what do you get?
Love and a sweater?
And I get a beating with words because I didn't do something perfect.
I wake up terrified.
Terrified that I'll have to face someone today.
Yet somehow,
I go on.
I go on because there is nothing better for me to do.
So think.
Think before you hurt someone.
Think before you say something,
Because, those words you say,
Even though you're joking,
They hurt.
They can kill you inside,
and there is nothing you can do to make it okay again.
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