Little By Little

April 24, 2011
By AliceAngel DIAMOND, Shreveport, Louisiana
AliceAngel DIAMOND, Shreveport, Louisiana
60 articles 52 photos 8 comments

Favorite Quote:
This brick wall I tried so hard to build, is tumbling down. - Me (AliceAngel)

If drama were vodka, everyone at my school would be drunk. - Chloe, one of my friends.


Mom – you’ve been breaking my heart little by little.
You’ve told me that I don’t try hard.
You’ve told me that I don’t know anything.
This makes me feel as if I’m not appreciated.
This makes me feel like a plate that has been shattered and thrown away,
Not useful anymore.

Friends – you’ve been breaking my heart little by little.
You’ve mocked me.
You’ve used me.
And now I’m tired of it.
I can’t stand it anymore and I don’t know how you can.
I may be vulnerable, but I’m not stupid.
I know when you’re mocking me and making fun of me.
It’d be best if you stopped, because if you don’t…
…I don’t know what would happen.

Drumline – you’ve been breaking my heart little by little.
Yes, some of you may know me.
Yes, I was one of the girls on cymbals this year.
Yes, I don’t fit in with percussion.
Yes, I know some of you don’t like me.
I’ve said ‘hi’ to some of you, but you just ignored me.
I’ve talked with some of you, but not a lot of you.
Most of you that I’ve talked to are freshmen.
Some of you that I’ve talked to were on cymbals with me this year.
Some of you that I’ve talked to are just nice and have talked to probably most of the freshmen.
This just proves that I don’t fit in with percussion.
Yes I fit in in 6th grade.
Yes I fit in in middle school.
No, I don’t fit in freshman year.

Everyone that knows me – you’ve been breaking my heart little by little.
You don’t know how I feel,
You don’t know the pain behind my eyes,
Behind my smile.
No matter how hard I try,
I can’t stop imagining worst-case scenarios that could turn out to be good.
I can’t stop imagining what would happen if I were kidnapped.
I can’t stop imagining what would happen if I ran away.
I can’t stop imagining what would happen if I disappeared.
I can’t stop imagining what would happen if I died.
I don’t know how you would feel if any of these happened.
Would you be sad?
Uninterested?
Happy?
Would you even care?

I keep telling myself that I matter.
That I’m important.
That I’m beautiful, just like everyone else.
And I know I am, but it doesn’t help sometimes.
Yes I laugh and joke around with everyone,
But that doesn’t mean I’m not sad on the inside.


The author's comments:
I was thinking about this during church this morning, so i thought i'd go ahead and write it. Today is 4/24/11, which is my parents' 18th wedding anniversary, and it's also Easter. But i was just reminded of this earlier, and thought it'd be a good poem.

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