Every year, she questions if it's really a new year because she's always treated the same.
She takes away the inner pain with outer pain.
It's funny how soothing pain becomes when you are depressed.
And her hobbies include keeping quiet and skipping meals.
She skips meals like hopscotch and hopes that the taunts and games will disappear over time.
When she asks her friends if she's overweight, they say "No, you're beautiful."
And every time
She wonders why she can't be both.
She wonders why she can't be pretty.
She wonders why she's not like her friends.
She wonders why the boys never ask her out.
She wonders why she's always the victim.
She wonders why she wonders so much...
I mean, if you question so much about your life, then why even be a part of it?
If only she knew that every question has an answer.
Maybe she'd make it through the insults.
Maybe she wouldn't be alone.
Maybe she'd find a hero...
Someone to be there when she needs it the most.
Someone to weaken those insults, kill those insults, cleanse her mind of those insults.
She asks everyone but herself if she can be saved
And she's been counting her unclean days with red razor blades.
She went to her first concert, her only escape from hell where she met the lead singer of her favorite band.
He grabbed her arm, put his lips against her wrists and said "I wanna see you again soon, but next time, I only wanna be kissing skin...no more scars."
And for the first time in years, she smiled.
A smile that lasted for 4 days until someone called her fat.. again.
Someone who she had been going to school with for years and that one little comment finally set her off.
She said
"In the 4th and 5th grade, you called me a loner.
In 6th, 7th, and 8th grade, you called me a nerd.
In 9th grade, you said nobody liked me.
In 10th grade, you always called me a fatass.
Last week, you called me a loser for not having a smartphone like you and your friends.
You said I haven't lived yet and you said I probably never will live either.
Well it must be easy to say 'get off the ground' when you've been carried your whole life.
Just because there are people out there who have learned to ignore insults, that doesn't mean that I have too.
It doesn't mean insults have magically become dull.
Insults still cut deep and I have the scars to prove it.
You don't know what it's like to be cut so deep that the bone starts to show.
You don't know what it's like to be so far down underneath that your favorite song can't even be heard.
You don't know what it's like to have to wear long sleeves in public everyday just to hide your wrists.
You don't what it's like to be so depressed that the feeling of hunger disappears from your body.
You don't know what it's like to skip meals, but still see the extra skin folding at your sides.
I'm not sure if I'm overweight because I eat when I'm stressed or because these insults are being turned into calories that stack up inside of me.
You have no idea what any of these feelings feel like.
You've never experienced a real world problem and I guarantee you... you never will experience one because once your parents are lifted from their deathbeds, you will see that the only memory left there for
you... is their wallets."
And the next time they called that girl fat, she said "No, I am human."
YOU ARE READING
Views
Poesía"Views" is the second collection of my poems. For these poems, I decided to write with a bit of a challenge and put each poem in an uncommon perspective. Enjoy! :-)
