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everyone's got their **** together,
but me
everyone's out there succeeding,
and being

i'm just the girl at the bottom of the hole
trapped at the bottom
just gasping and grasping
for air or a ladder
maybe a hand?

someone to pull me up
so I can stand
and I know who I'd ask,
but he isn't here
I'm supposed to be older
I'm supposed to be wiser

"This is independence
pick yourself up!"
But how do you stand
when you're sinking so fast
you can't even grasp
the idea that you're
already sinking
just sinking,
      and lower,
into the hole
and you're spiraling now
because you thought that you had it

you thought you could pick yourself up
off the ground
you thought you could just climb right out
of that hole you fell down,
the one that he put you in
because how could he do this to you?
but HE'S just being INDEPENDENT
so WHY can't YOU do it?

It's not HIS hole you fell down..
and that's when you realize
you're stuck in this place

but you dug it yourself
Sometimes I dread showering because it means I have to walk by the mirror
And I hate the idea of seeing myself
How I look
How others must see me
It is the one thing I truly fear:

Most days a fake smile is enough to believe I'm happy,
Some days I can't fake it no matter how hard I try

I'm in a slump and I feel useless
I don't want to get up
I don't want to sleep
I don't want to create
I don't want to exist
Its too tiring

But when I think of the people I'll disappoint if I just left,
I cry because they'd be devastated

I can't drown my sorrows in alcohol because I don't like it
I can't numb the pain with drugs because I can't afford them
So I sit here,
In the shower,
Trying to scrub it away

Letting the water cleanse my pores
And my soul
Even though in the next 10 minutes it'll be like it never left
There's a reason people think I'm mean
why I seem so hateful and different
I guess I used to be so nice to everyone
because I needed to hide behind a mask
a mask that made me seem happy
made me seem kind

Of course i'm still kind,
I know what it feels like to feel
left out
So I'm nice to the people I know need it
the people like me,
who need someone to tell them it's okay,
like a flower needs the sun

we all want that warmth,
that warmth that is the love of those around us

I know that my parents think I'm different
I'm not the same little girl they once knew
I'm not cheerful
I'm not optomistic
Something broke inside me
like a bone when you hit the ground

For some, the bone might heal correctly
And come back stronger,
making them a better person
those are the people we want to know about.
the damaged people who became normal

But what about the others?
The bones that didn't grow back?
The bones that became twisted
and cracked again
the ones weaker than before.
no one wants to hear about those people
because no one wants to be tied down
or responsible,
for that sob story in their doorway

I don't know where I fall yet.
I'm still in the process of healing
and I have been for nine years.
every time I get close, something bends the bone a little
and sends me down a hole of pain

So no.
I'm not that happy little girl.
I'm not innocent anymore.
and that mask i kept on so tight,
the mask I wore to make you feel better,
to make you feel happy.
because i wanted you to be happy
It made me feel good for just a second,
when you would smile and forget about what made you sad.

That was my job
to make you happy.
I needed your smile,
never thinking of when I should smile too.
the only smile I knew was the one I painted on the mask
Maybe somewhere along the line, I asked myself;

When will I be happy?
and maybe it was selfish,
maybe it was inconvenient
but I ask myself that question every day
because this mask is getting a little too tight
and I need something long lasting,
because your short smiles aren't enough anymore.
once it's gone I get the shakes,
like an addict.
I need something to remind me to be happy.
there's an app for everything these days,
I wish there was an app for happiness.

You're the only one who makes me happy.
Lets me take the mask off now and again,
but Then I have to put it back on,
and wear it home
and I sleep in it,
eat in it,
shower in it,
This mask is getting tighter,
and I hope you won't be mad
when it just breaks.
sorry it's so long, I was struck with inspiration just out of no where
The people in this class are young
younger than I am,
and far more annoying

I have not learned a single thing,
I see no point to be here,
but i need this class you see,

for I need the credits
to walk towards my future.
my ability to graduate hangs in the balance

I hate that I must sit here
no way out,
listening to him mumble out words
in his thick accent
and his mouth getting in the way
of whatever the hell he is trying to say

I hate this class

I swear to GOD
I don't ACTUALLY know what it's like to have a boyfriend
I mean I do, because I have one
And i'm not saying I don't love it or him because I do

I'm just saying that I think I only know what it feels like when I can prove it
Because whenever he's not with me
Which is more than when he is
I feel like he's an idea
Not a reality

And I want that reality so bad
I need that reality
I crave it
Because my ideas will tear me apart of I let them

Because the stuff I can come up with
It kills dreams

And replaces them with:
And Nightmares
I have no time
To search underneath the bed
For monsters that I left behind
I have to move on
And let the monsters run free
Let them terrorize the fact that
There's something wrong with me,

Oh, my personality,
It is no normality,
And these god forsaken monsters
Are driving me to insanity
It's always my fault
It's always me
I'm always blamed
I'm always framed

I've learned to take it
And accept all the punches
I wake up with these knives in my back
I go to bed with these bruises

"If you hadn't"
"You should've"
"Maybe if you"
"Why didn't you"
"Shut up"
"I don't want to hear it"
"Just shut up!"
"That's not your job!"
"You're going through a phase"
"What s wrong with you?"
"I don't get you, no one does"

I'm sorry
I'm sorry that all I can say is sorry
Because anything else isn't acceptable
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