Put it down, darling. Put down the knife.
Don't let them get to you. I know they hurt. Each one feels like a blow, a stab underneath you armor. Nobody can see how much the pain kills you inside, piece by piece.
Put it down, sweet one. Put down the rope.
Your mask, the mask forged from years of laughter, of japes, from gossiping behind your back. Nobody can see past the mask. When it cracks, nobody cares. Nobody comes to comfort you.
Put it down, wonderful creature. Put down the pills.
But they don't what fear is. What pain is, what humiliation is. The feeling in your gut when you arrive at the horrid place. The awful heart pang when you lie to your parents and say everything is all right. They hold a one sided sword, and they methodically plunge it into you.
But wait, blessed child. Listen to me.
They want to see you crack. They like the tears, the shrieks, and the power that they earn from their dominance. Foil them for another day. Walk with your chin up. Look at the beauty in the world and sigh that such evil exists. Do not get back at them. You are above that. You are the gentle summer breeze, gliding over them. You are the majestic cloud, seeing and crying over such lost souls.
Have you listened to me, dears? Have you understood?
Don't do it, dear. Just don't.
I am here for anyone who needs me. Talk to me, talk to someone. Do not let this go unnoticed.
