Random stuff

My life in a poem

All kids start off different
From being girly girls
To tough tomboys

Kids growing up
In calm neighborhoods
Always smiling

Two pigtails up high
Frilly pink dress
Yup, that was me

However,
Moving was common
Too common

Not even two years
After I settled in the house
And made friends

That'd we'd have to move again
Saying goodbye to my friends
And having to make new ones

By the third time we moved
I couldn't socialize
I didn't want to socialize

Reading books in the corner
Drawing during class
Folding origami

I ended up sitting in the counselors office
They were trying to "help"
Well it didn't do much

Fourth grade,
I found someone
Who I thought understood me

She used me like a doll
Threw me away
Said she hated me anyway

Whispers fall down the halls
My classmates talking about me
Avoiding me like I was a virus

Back to the counselors office I went
I said nothing
I didn't want their help

Switching schools?
Boy I was glad
Starting from square one

Things seem well
Smiling faces
Nice places

Could it be?
Could I be happy again?
Could I smile once more?

.

.

.

No.

.

Blood runs down my wrist
I can't feels the pain
It's numb

Week after week
It's turned into
A daily habit

Skinnier
Tired
Worthless

Those were
Very, very
Common

Wrapping a scarf around my neck
Cutting off air
Maybe it'll end

Staring at pill canisters
Calculating how much it'd take
To overdose

Sitting on the plush chair
The psychologist looks into my empty eyes
I don't answer back

Holding out my hand to the darkness,
Hoping someone would answer
My cry for help

This time
It's different
Someone grabs my hand

They pull me close
Hug me tight
Telling me

"It's okay"
"You're beautiful"
"Don't hurt yourself"

It's enough to shed tears
Not because I'm emotional
It's because I needed comfort

Someone that didn't care
How broken I was
They would still love

Now
I stare
Into the mirror

Eyes still broken
Reflecting the past
Through the irises

I smile

My past defines who I am
My past made up who I am
My past is my past.