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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1212497
I was having a really bad day.
I sit here on the bench,
the wind ravishes my hair,
My eyes are still wet from closeness of my love.
My love that is always taken away just before we kiss.
My love that I may never see up close.
I stand here in the dark, waiting for time to pass.
It never does causing me to turn to my vices.
Just a little puff or sip.
Not like anyone cares,
I'm just another depressed anti-social bitch.
They say they love me,
with unconditional love.
I laugh at this, there is no such thing in this world.
They just want me to stay to be their brain,
I mean nothing else to them.
People tell me God and Jesus love all.
If we all were loved why am I here to suffer.
I roll out of bed and go to school,
this isn't my life but my mother's.
So she decides how I shall live it in her special 'I love you' kind of way.
I am crying because I am nothing anymore.
If I died who would really care.
I realize that people would miss my slave labor, but tell me who the hell is truly going to care!

If you met me today,
you would say I was happy.
My mask hides everything so no one hurts me.
They hurt my mother but never me,
I died in this body long ago.
After the rape and beatings,
my life has meant nothing to me.
They could have stopped it all,
most of them were there.
They were in the other room just drinking and having a good o'le time,
while a moster was telling me I was pretty,
I was only nine when it happened.
After that I really didn't care.
I didn't feel any of the beatings that my step-dad delivered to me,
I was dead in spirit, my body is just an act.
Everyone is fooled by the National Hounour Society student,
The team manager of the speech team,
A beauty of the school,
Who still cuts and bleeds.
A girl that will never have her life back.
She can't even dream of being free.

Everytime those boys ask 'why did you try to jump?'
I sit there and look at them and wonder what they would do instead.
This park bench is getting cold.
But it's not as cold as my heart fills.
Covered in a blanket of make-up it always freezes the fastest.
I stand up and realize that I'm totally alone.
Did they realize I left?
Or did they continue to have fun?
I tell you the second one.
I walk into the building the warmth kisses my iced skin.
They all sit around and giggle.
Having fun like kids.
I wish I could talk to them and use them for support.
But only lovers are supposed to do that.
Do they realize how close to freedom I was?
No they are too busy eating my food drinking my drinks,
Never caring about their host.
Not knowing my blood flows down my arm,
Not knowing that I as gone.
Why bother anymore?

Today I almost kissed and went to my lover.
My sweet lover named death.
© Copyright 2007 marrhet (marrhet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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