Myself: "How come you don't have friends like everybody else?"
I: "Yeah, that's weird..."
Me: "I have friends!"
Myself: "Oh yeah, name all of them now!"
I: "Bet she can't..."
Me: "Yes I can! There's- Then there's- Well...I used to be friends with one girl in 4th grade..."
Myself: "You mean the one that left you and considers you to be a b*tch?"
I: "Oh yeah! I remember her! She dropped you as if you meant absolutely nothing to her."
Me: "Well, I know that friendship didn't work out, but what about the boy that I used to hang with? He and I were best buds!"
Myself: "Yeah...until he found a new one. He would walk past you and didn't even acknowledge your existence."
I: "Let's get real: He didn't want to hang out with the little black girl, anymore. As soon as he found the color he could identify with, you didn't even matter anymore."
Me: "Well...What about..."
Myself: "Let's face it. Those were the ONLY friends you had and everybody else either bullied you or spent their time talking about how strange they thought you were."
I: "No one really cares for you at all. It's always been that way."
Me: "Well, I'll get more friends one day! You'll see! I never listened to those that talked about me! I learned to stay strong!"
Myself: "Sure you did...You're just as weak as the thinnest twig; you can easily be broken with one effortless snap."
I: "You're too damned lost in your own thoughts for people to accept you. "
NO
ONE
CARES."
Me: "But..."
"Myself" and "I" walk away from "Me." She began to cry as she watched the fractions of her soul disappear.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide...
Poetry(#12 in Poetry- 3/5/17 |14 in Poetry- 2/28/17 |23 in Poetry- 11/18/16) Have you ever considered picking up a pen and writing to the one you fear most? Well, that's what I've done. When I write to my fears, It's oddly satisfying, because I know that...
