a poem regarding the thought, "are they really 'just kidding'?" |
They say they're just kidding but I think those may be lies I'm pretty sure they mean it I can see it in their eyes Whenever they throw a punch my way Or a kick or push or shove Though the marks will fade, the scars will stay I pretend it's out of love Every morning I roll out of bed and paint on a smile so bright Behind the grin is a sense of dread as I try to find the light When I overhear their insults or spot the all of their shared looks I can feel the pain that results and I retreat into my books Every day I walk through the hall I wish I could hide myself Outward I stand so proud and tall But inside I crouch on a dusty shelf As I hear the snickers when I do the things I like the two's endless bickers spur me to start a fight I swallow down the injuries that scar not my body, but my heart When I begin to hide my oddities I feel like a hidden work of art They tell you not to care about what others think and I promise that I try But it sends me to the edge, the brink when I struggle not to cry I tell them I could never become anorexic or depressed the urges to succumb to those things pound As I tell the lies I feel the pain that I've repressed the fears and doubts abound |