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Then I Go To Schoo,
Folder:
Tell Me Why Somedays I am proud to be me,
All my curves and fat included,
I like the way my hair looks,
And feel like I am Queen.
And then I get to school.
Where every giggling girl,
Every laughing jock,
seems to be lughing at me.
Every word the teacher says flies right over my head,
And echoes of the laughs run through my head,
The other kids understand it,
They don't have to admit they don't know it.
But sometimes I get through a class knowing the answers,
I can walk out confident and tall.
And then I have to deal with my next class.
Where the giggles start anew,
Where the another teacher gets another chance to confuse me.
And the people around me laugh at me,
And my friends sit to far away,
And I start sinking.
The next class maybe I can handle,
Oh yes, this comes natrually.
I walk out of that class with a confident smile and gait.
It lasts all the way to the buss.
Becaue then I have to go home.
A place that no longer feels safe.
If I thought school was hard, home is worse.
I don't guess he is laughing at me,
I don't have to imagine what he thinks about my weight,
I can hear him clearly,
He is pretty much yelling it.
"Fat, worthless, no one will care about you, not going anywhere, I don't care."
And then gets mad when I get mad,
Gets mad when I get sad,
Gets mad, because I show emotion. Because I fight back.
Somedays I feel good about myself,
The days he isn't there.
And some mornings I feel good about myself.
Then I go to school.
Yes. I have had a similar
Yes. I have had a similar feeling as a child. It is all noteworthy, but what is more noteworthy is how do you cope? And is there anyone you know whom you can share with who is struggling through the same things....because in the end, that is what saved me. When I lost those few friends, is when I began to get really messed up.
...
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
Thank you, and I don't cope
Thank you, and I don't cope well. If I am lucky it comes out as a poem under the folder "WRITTEN AT ASS O'CLOCK" but others it ends in a lot of crying amd bouts of depression. But my friends are always there and I have poetry and writing. So, overall, less self-destructive than would be fun, but yeah. Thank you for commenting, it means a lot. I am getting to the point I really look forward to seeing if you comment. :3 *Huggles*
Love,
LovingLovelace
If your mirror doesn't find you one of the most beautiful people it has ever seen, punch it and find a better mirror.