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Do you see that girl? Hideous.
Her face is an abomination.
It's no wonder no one loves
that false replica of creation.

And that other one's a *******,
you can tell by her low V
flaunting double D's
like a sign flashing "I'm ******".

Now Ugly she's unlucky; to hook a boy
she needs a trap,
and *****'s got personality
but no one gives a crap.

Both are swimming desperately,
but waves are crashing endlessly.
And our tidal words that lacerate
drown them in a pool of hate.

You could of stopped it.
Was it worth it?
Mocking others to gain your status.

See that ****? He's handsome: a body that all crave.
But he's into art and stylish dress
Rumor says he's gay.

That other boy's pathetic, weak
and never takes a stand.
Little birdy told me
he's missing proof that he's a man.

Now Stupid's got it all - the very hottest dates,
but for all his charm and manliness, no one calls him straight.

Loser's slowly speaking up,
proving he gives a ****,
but all his pleas are over-looked as him on crack again.

Both are slowly burning,
flames licking at their heels,
and they let the hurt devour them
to stop the pain they feel.

You could have stopped it.
Was it worth it?
Mocking others to gain your status.

I've heard the spiteful rumors
that I'm deformed, somehow grotesque.
Standing at cliff's edge, I wonder
is it worth it?

Yes.

I'll take that step and free myself
from this world of misery.
All this time just waiting for your kindness that could save me.
I am not encouraging suicide. Please don't think that. This is more of a wake-up call for every time you let cutting words slip, because even "friendly *******" can be taken to heart.
 Nov 2013 MonkeyZazu
Lucy
I don't live, I exist.
I don't smile, I lie.
I don't cry, I'm too strong.
I do not meet new people, i get nervous.
I do not go out, that needs friends.
I do not trust people, other than a few.
I am not just me, I have a brother and a sister.
I am more than just a girl, I'm a complicated mess.
I do not dissolve like aspirin, I'm more like a capsule.
I do not melt like the snow, I'm more like an iceberg.
What you see is a calm surface.
When really, it's a storm inside.




I am not just me, I am everyone.
some people never go crazy.
me, sometimes I'll lie down behind the couch
for 3 or 4 days.
they'll find me there.
it's Cherub, they'll say, and
they pour wine down my throat
rub my chest
sprinkle me with oils.
then, I'll rise with a roar,
rant, rage -
curse them and the universe
as I send them scattering over the
lawn.
I'll feel much better,
sit down to toast and eggs,
hum a little tune,
suddenly become as lovable as a
pink
overfed whale.
some people never go crazy.
what truly horrible lives
they must lead.

— The End —