Nothing

Stupid Poem

He hurts me.
He hurts me.
Does he even realise that he hurts me?
Are all these years of pain really nothing to him?
After all the yells and torment... does he really . . .
Not care?
Am I that worthless?
How is it possible that he can do this to me, and yet smile to the visitors.
People truly have no idea what happens behind closed doors.

And her. How does she do it?
How is she so strong?
How can she not feel the pain that I feel?
Am I really that pathetic?
Is that why I hurt her?
I hurt her so much.
She thinks I enjoy it.
She thinks I'm worse than my man Hitler whose twenty feet under.
Worse than him.
I hate it.
I hate myself.
I hate myself for having that stupid smile forever plastered unto my face.
In the pain, in the torment, it comes along.
It's sick.
It hurts.
It hurts a lot.
I love her.
She's just so innocent.
Too innocent.
I can't stand her.
Because I want to be her.
Strong.
Intelligent.
Brave.
Beautiful.
Awesome sauce.
Is that too much to ask?
Oh wait.
It is.
I can never be that.

He won't let me.
Because he hates me with out even knowing he does.
And I hate myself.
For loving him.
I hate myself even more.
For hating him.
But I can't stop it.
I can't stop myself.
I wish I could hurt myself you know?
Like in all those books, like real life girls who can't handle it.
But I won't.
I can't.
Ever.
Because I love them all too much.
Goodness knows how much I've gone through because of them.
And how much they've gone through because of me.
I'm just too melodramatic for my own good.

Why do you think I'm writing this?
Cause I'm weak.
Because I can trust no one with my secrets.
Because I'm not like the rest of them.
I'm different.
I'm weird.
Weird is good.
But it can cause you pain.
It can liven up your whole day.
It can bring you sorrow for years.

Love.
Now that's the stupidest thing of all.
Heaven knows we all need it.
That toxic poison.
But no matter the pain.
It brings you joy.
It brings you sorrow.
It brings you an adrenaline rush.
It breaks you into pieces.
Poison. Absolute poison.
A priceless jewel of sorrow and mystery.
Oh how I hate it.
I hate them all.
I love them all.
It's too much for my own good.
My mind is a complete paradox.
I can't think.