July 29, 2013
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I would not look up,
I was too scared of what I would see.
They would all be there, making a joke, a tease, a threat.
I try to scream out “Help me!”
But there is nobody there to hear my cry,
So I finally decide what I want.
I want to die.

To feel so alone to feel so much sorrow in life,
Is it worth living or getting rid of all the threats and strife?

I’m fat…
I’m ugly…
Being told these things makes me want to run and hide,
You win, you get what you want.
But I wish there was something who could of seen past that to what’s inside.

I tried to hide the bruises,
But I ran out of excuses.
They laugh and tease at my own self- hate,
I wonder if they will even remember the date.
The date that would be the day of my death, my freedom, my escape.

I pick up the blade, my paintbrush it would be,
To cut my pain, to paint my wrist.
I wonder if they would laugh now if they could see,
What their hate finally did to me…

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