The Poem Devoted to the ABUSED, the OUTCASTS, the NOBODIES

Your Cruelty

Tainted black and blue

My many scars of abuse; reminders of my pain

Painted to Perfection; there's no such thing

My fear creeps through the dark and finds a way to my light

Lost forever in darkness; will I ever be found?

strokes of red, slashed across my skin

Innocent and unknowing; I walk around confused

I'm losing my mind; losing my sane

Why, why me? What did I ever do?

My conscience answers, "What did you NOT do?"

Scared to fight back, Scared to cry out

What have I possibly got left to live for?

Curled up in my dark corner, clutching to the last of my hope

Darkness doesn't hesitate, it's cruel and steals all chances

My puzzle is scattered; each peice is a misfit; just like me

wanting to be a peice in somebody's life; wanting to belong; wanting to be important

will my wish ever be granted? I'm waiting...

...for my turn of happiness; for my happily ever after

but all I get is a happily NEVER after.

I write my pain into this one poem,

hoping that somebody will understand me;

I dedicate this to all the outcast, all the abused, all the nobodies

Getting yelled at for no reason; the yelling doesn't cease to exist

touching this knife to my skin is my only cure;

the pain will wash out the pain that I feel mentally

They think they now me; they're liars, nobody does

Stupid Punishments, due to your grouchy mood

each word strikes me and hurts like a mother father

I take it, try to hold in these tears of mine as those painful words sink in

I HATE YOU!!! GET OUT!!! YOU'LL NEVER MAKE IT!!! I'M GLAD YOUR NOT MY KID!!! GET OUT OF MY FACE BEFORE I THINK OF KILLING YOU!!! SHUT UP!!! I'LL KICK YOU OUT!!! GET AWAY FROM ME AND STOP; I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOUR SHIT!!!

they stab and try to hit their target; me, I'm the human bullseye

the library, school, and this website are the only places I can be myself

the only places away from you, I'm as desperate to wish that school was year round.

I may get bullied in school, but at least I have my friends

but the next thing I know your saying...

...I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said. You understand that when I say those things that it means that I love you. I just don't want you to start bad habits.

The problem is is that I don't understand a word of it, to me it's all a beautiful lie

bad habits; hmm. I don't want to be like you for sure

yelling constantly, terroizing, criticizing every step, every word, and everything I take

I'm not one to be blamed; I'm Claimed Anonymous

I want another, I want to be found, I don't know what I want anymore

Why were we born to want? It doesn't help;

 it saddens to know that we can't always have what we want

There is no we in "I", there is no "I" in me, so who am I?

Spending my days looking through windows

these mirrors don't show me anything

Just me, myself, and I

I'm just a letter; nothing more

Read the definition of I and it'll probably say the ninth letter in the alphabet

that's the simple term, the simple definition

I love God; but I continue to question

If he knows all our actions in life before we are even born, then why not just send us to heaven or hell?

Does he like to see us suffer? Are we all just peices to his chess board?

Will I die in this game?

I'll never know.

I'll pick up the peices to this god foresaken puzzle and start over;

from the out to the inside of...

...I. The ninth letter in the alpahbet