Girl

Quiet girl.

Clever girl.

Hide it away, girl.

Pretty girl.

Good girl.

Keep your mouth shut, girl.

Speak when spoken to,

No other time.

Know your place. Keep the pace.

Everything's fine.

Hush, girl.

Silence, girl.

Do not think.

Close your heart, girl.

Before it starts, girl.

Or you'll sink.

Whatever

I feel like lately I've been spit it the face so much my vision has clouded. What do I have to do? Should I sever my arms and legs? Chop off my head? My fingers? My toes? What will it take to show the people I love that I need them? Or am I misinterpreting this?

Is it instead that I'm not wanted? Does my desire to be there actually burden people? Would it be better if I went away? I'd really like to know.

Why is it so impossible to think that when you say things like that, you wound me so terribly, I can barely breathe from the pain? You aren't alone, but you insist on acting like it and I can't stand it.

I wish I could just give up, but I can't. So I don't even know why I wrote this. Things will go on as they have and I'll be hurting like I have. No one but me will read this anyway. I guess I really am a moron. 

Why?

Why live in a world like this? What's the point? When it seems the bad far outweighs the good, why try? Doesn't that make a moron? It's pointless.

I see good people suffer what the bad deserve. I see the bad triumph over the good at every turn. A good girl hates herself because of the lies the bad has told her. She can't see her own light because its darkness casts a shadow upon her. The pain she feels she does not deserve. The air it breathes it does not deserve. Why should she feel pain while it dances in her tears? It should drown. It should decay. But it lives. It thrives. It's taking her life.

What's the point anymore when all efforts are futile? When no matter how hard you try or how loudly you scream, no one cares and no one hears?

I'm losing my voice. Not like anyone's listening anyway. Has anyone ever listened? Doesn't matter. I still screamed. And I'll be screaming. Until my cries scar my throat and it bleeds and I drown from the blood filling my lungs. I'll scream after the shriek fades and the gurgling of struggled breath replaces it.

I'll scream. Why? For me. Because the world can have its darkness. The others can give in and have their darkness. I won't have it. Even if the only light in me is dimmer than a dying firefly. That's why.

Call it pointless. I'm a moron. But I'd rather die trying than let it break me. It won't take me. Not as long as I'm screaming. 

My Mask

A mask better than any you've seen.
A mask to hide the real me.
To cover my scars and my pain
So I can fake a smile again.

A mask to hide my past.
A mask that will forever last.
What is it that you see?
Because it isn't me.

My memory is faded;
My personality, jaded.
I don't remember who I was.
I don't remember me because

Too much has happened that I can't control.
And now I'm someone I hardly know.
Bottle it up, my daily task.
That is how I don my mask.

When the pain returns and sears
Like the piercing points of well-made spears.
Hide it away so no one will ask.
That is how I don my mask.

A mask of lies and of denial.
A mask strengthened by each trial.
I've worn it so long. Can it be?
I have forgotten what looks like me.

Sick and Fucking Tired

I am sick and fucking tired of seeing someone I love let himself be torn apart by this bitch he convinced himself he loved.  I've seen them together and all she does is bring him down.  When he isn't around she's this cheerful little fairy that floats around and flirts, but the -second- she sees him, THE FUCKING SECOND SHE SEES HIM, all she talks about is negative things.  She blames him for shit and says that he's killing her.  She's threatened to kill herself and harm herself and it's every single time he's around. NO OTHER TIME! He comes to me and tells me how much it hurts him, how much pain it causes him and that KILLS ME.  I bend over backwards DAY AFTER DAY to make him smile and to show him he's worth so much more than that, but apparently that's not enough because he keeps going back to her and he keeps letting her hurt him and I'm afraid that one of these days I'm just going to blow up in his face and he'll hate me, but I don't think I can do this any longer! SHE DOESN'T LOVE YOU! What she loves is attention and your gentle heart gives it to her and she leeches out your life in the process! STOP IT! You don't deserve that! You're better than that! And I don't know, maybe it's the Nightingale Syndrome in action or something.  Maybe you just want to be a hero and save her from herself, but, honey, SHE'S A DEMON! A downright, no good, worthless piece of shit that doesn't deserve to breathe.  I want to be there for you and I want to help you, but if you keep going back and forth and ignoring me and all I've said and done and practically stabbing my heart each time you decide to let her back in yours, I won't be around much longer.  Please stop this.  I'm begging you.  I know it hurts.  I know it's so fucking painful you can hardly breathe, but I'll help you.  Whenever you need me, day or night, I'll be there.  Don't let her hurt you any more than she already has.  Please.

I'm Not Perfect

I'm not perfect.  I'm not happy.  I struggle everyday to smile like I used to, but no one sees it.  They don't care to see it.  I'm tired of being treated like I can feel no pain.  I'm tired of being brushed off when I reach out.  I can't always be a little happiness pixie, spreading cheer and joy to all those around me.  I'd love to be.  I'd give anything to be.  But I'm -not.-  It's like people think that when I act ridiculous and off-the-wall it's because I don't have a care in the world.  Guess what?  It's the exact opposite. It couldn't be farther from the truth.  I'm hurting so badly inside there are times I wonder why I'm even breathing.
I don't need pity.  I don't need someone to magically make it all better.  I just want someone to give a shit.  I will bend over backwards for people when they need me and all I want is for someone to do that for me for a change.  I don't want to have to ask someone to be there.  I want them to just be there like I am for the people I love.  To just -know- when I feel like crap and want to make it better.
I guess in that respect I'm an unrealistic dreamer.  I'm sorry I'm not perfect.  I'm sorry that I have bad days, too, and can't always be your personal little cheer up bunny.  I'm sorry you treat me like I've failed you when I don't shove my own problems away like always and focus only on you.  I'm sorry you can't see that my smile hasn't been real for a long time and I'm sorry you couldn't care less about that.
I can only handle so much.  I'm not perfect.