I'm sitting here bruised,
Tired and battered,
Scars on my flesh,
And like my bones have been shattered.
And sit there, next to me
And your scars are past bleeding, So surely, my friend,
You know what I'm needing?
But you don't, do you?
You only assume.
"I know right?" You know,
But not of my gloom.
I've been asked before,
Why are you violent?
It's my own torture,
I'm trying to be silent.
"Speak up, inform,
You're allowed to yell out.
We're in the new age,
It's time to act now."
Ten scars on my leg,
Hidden with a flourish,
A punch to the face,
No wonder I'm discouraged.
And what makes it worse
Is the horrible messages.
Each a sharp knife,
Each a pile of torn wreckages.
And they hurt, you know!
They stick in my brain.
Slowly tearing me apart,
Holding me back with their chain.
I don't know who to trust,
I'll never feel free.
Pushed me to the point,
I feel all my friends hate me.
You call me fat.
Your plan backfired.
I'm no longer 'fat',
And I'm still not desired.
Coz I won't eat.
I refuse.
Why? You ask.
It's all coz of you.
Fuck you.
