everything* is different now;
its edging on
two whole years
with out the tears
of being beaten down
by cold hearted kids
who couldnt find themselves
and took it out
and now i feel on me.
a pathetic remorse
for the scars
all those
lost souls
left on my legs,
my hips, my arms;
but not for me
for them.
because
how lacking of love
all your lives must have been
for you to punch me,
and scream
painful lies in my ears
for you to kick me,
and use your nails
and pencils to tear
cuts crying red
upon my pale skin.
Oh, i feel worse
for all of you
then i do for myself;
because id never do
an innocent life
so wrong
and youll never
be able to retract
what you've done.