What goes around comes around

Not so comforting if those around you pound hate 

“Life’s not fair” they said as a first taste 

Later on all she realizes to them she was just a waste

A target

She’s just another soul on the market   

She’s told to be drunk in love but she isn’t the alcoholic 

How does she find love when all she knows is hate 

How can anyone carry on being this fake 

She looks in the mirror and just simply feels the weight 

The pressure 

How will she ever measure 

Up To these unreachable standards 

People say she’s just a diamond in the rough  

But they don’t get what it means to always have to be tough 

Look it up

Women are supposed to know how to love & care for a daughter

But all she’s ever been is an animal to slaughter

You’ll notice it’s useless to talk about her father 

Because All he’s ever taught her 

Is to run from a gun 

She knew how to do that before she even knew what a hug  was 

Love was simply just an afterthought, a fuzz 

Something that she never truly begun 

To feel or to know if it was true  

But there was one thing she knew 

And it was that love is hopeless

Attempts to open up left her vulnerability crushed

The last thing she knew was to trust 

Love left without her and left her in the dust  

It was easier to run back into the fire, back to the pain

Back to knowing that love is just acid rain 

Love is for the lucky and not those with a chemically imbalanced brain

The mask is becoming too much to maintain

Its a strain; when can i take off these chains 

When will the weight learn to refrain 

From leaving these bruises, these stains 

Because if you must know

She has More scars than constellations in the sky

She cant remember a time she felt alright 

Since then, gazing at the sky is a distant memory

But tracing those constellations on her arms brought a similar peace 

It was her comfort zone. 

The only place she’s ever known.

Hate. 

Something about that familiar red flow made everything pause, even if only for a while

At least she could escape into some exile of stability 

Something that made her feel a type of tranquility

At least she knew if she kept it quiet she wouldn’t have to hear the sympathy 

The lies of people caring that just cut so deep  

The hate from others simply wasn't the same as the hate she held for herself 

She took her pride and place it up on the shelf 

Her body was just another casualty to the jail cell 

If others knew that in this prison she would feel so pathetic 

But that blade on her skin was just so magnetic 

She could rely on it when the world would turn hectic 

Anxiety and self hatred was a new aesthetic 

What goes around comes around 

Others hated her then, so she hates herself now.